Archive of Our Own

Christmas arrived quietly.

No alarms. No distant laughter. No excited footsteps racing down the hall or Ruby shaking her awake so they can open gifts.

Blake Belladonna woke to silence.

Not the good kind, not the soft, shared quiet of a house full of people still asleep. This was the wrong kind.

Pale winter light filtered through the curtains, painting the bedroom in shades of silver and blue. Blake lay still for a long moment, ears twitching slightly as she listened. She waited for familiar sounds: Ruby’s uneven breathing, Penny’s faint mechanical hum.

Nothing.

Her brow furrowed. The house was never this still, not with Ruby around, not on Christmas. She was sure her two wives wouldnt be able to sneak out of bed withotu waking her either.

Blake pushed herself upright, the cool air brushing against her skin. The sides of the bed were empty, the sheets already cold. That more than anything else made her chest tighten.

She slipped out of bed, pulling on a sweater and padding quietly into the hallway.

Empty.

Her footsteps echoed faintly against the floor. Doors stood ajar. Lights were off. Even the air felt untouched, like no one had passed through it in hours. Her ears strained picking up distant sounds from outside, wind through trees, the faraway call of a bird, but nothing from within the house itself.

“Ruby?” she called softly.

Her voice vanished into the space, unanswered.

She moved through the kitchen next. Then the living room. Then the stairs. Every room was the same: neat, orderly, and abandoned. No overturned furniture. No signs of panic. No signs of anyone at all.

It was as if the house had been carefully, deliberately emptied while she slept.

Blake stopped in the center of the living room.

The Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, its lights glowing faintly in the dim morning. Presents still rested beneath it, untouched. Stockings hung neatly from the mantel, each one full and waiting.

Everything was ready.

Except the people.

A familiar mix of emotions crept into her chest,  a flicker of worry quickly chased by something else. Suspicion. Recognition. The faintest spark of amusement. Ruby and Penny were many things, but subtle wasn’t usually one of them.

Blake exhaled slowly, as a small smile tugged at her lips.

“…I see,” she murmured.

She stepped closer to the tree, and that’s when she noticed it.

Tucked between the lowest branches, half-hidden by tinsel and lights, was a folded piece of red paper tied with a silver ribbon. Blake reached for it, carefully undoing the knot.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

Good morning, Blake.
Looks like you woke up early.
If you want to find us, you’ll have to play along.
Start where you always keep watch.

Blake huffed a quiet laugh. “Of course,” she said, already turning toward the windows.

The window seat sat just as it always did, cushions perfectly arranged. But nestled between them was another note, taped slightly crooked, decorated with tiny hearts and glitter that had absolutely not been Blake-approved.

WRONG PLACE.
JUST KIDDING.
RIGHT IDEA THOUGH.
CHECK WHERE YOU KEEP US SAFE.

Blake’s smile softened despite herself. “You’re both terrible liars,” she murmured fondly.

The weapons locker.

She opened it to find a small box placed carefully inside, cold and harmless. Inside the box was another note, written in neat handwriting.

You always protect us.
Today, we protect you.
Please prepare for cold weather exposure and emotional surprise.

Blake paused, heart giving a small, traitorous thump.

She grabbed her coat and scarf, slipped on her boots, and stepped outside.

Fresh snow blanketed the ground, untouched and pristine, glittering beneath the pale morning sky. Her breath fogged in the cold as she noticed a trail of footprints leading away from the house; small, obvious, and completely unhidden.

Ruby’s doing, then.

She followed them past the garden and toward the treeline at the edge of the property. There, hanging from a low branch, was another ribbon-tied clue.

You’re getting closer.
Literally warmer.
Follow the light.

Blake lifted her gaze.

Beyond the trees, a soft orange glow flickered, warm and steady against the cold blue of the snow. Her steps slowed, not from hesitation, but from the feeling swelling in her chest. Her ears caught it now: distant voices, laughter, the crackle of firewood.

She pushed through the last line of trees.

The clearing opened before her in a wash of warmth and light. A bonfire burned at its center, flames snapping and dancing, casting long shadows across the snow. Strings of lights were hung between the trees, glowing softly like fallen stars.

And there they were.

Ruby stood closest to the fire, cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders, grinning so hard it looked like her face might split. Penny stood beside her, bundled in scarves, holding a tray of steaming mugs with both hands, eyes shining brighter than the flames themselves.

For a heartbeat, Blake couldn’t move.

Then—

“Merry Christmas!” Ruby shouted, nearly tripping over her own boots as she rushed forward.

Penny followed more carefully, offering Blake a mug with a smile so gentle it made her chest ache. “We wanted it to be special,” she said softly. “Because you always make everything special for us.”

Blake let out a quiet, shaky laugh, warmth spreading through her as she accepted the mug. “You disappeared,” she said, voice rougher than she meant it to be.

Ruby winced. “Okay, yeah, in hindsight maybe not our best move.”

Penny nodded solemnly. “We will revise the plan next year.”

Blake shook her head, pulling them both into a tight embrace. “You’re impossible,” she murmured although and meant perfect.

Snow drifted gently around them as the fire crackled, the lights glowed, and Christmas could finally begin with the the two loveliest women on Remnant beside her.