A/N: So this is what I'm working on when I should be writing other things... ahhh, I have such a huge headache and a cold so pardon me if this sucks… just felt like writing a little holiday ficlet. Hope you enjoy~
"Has everyone passed in their letters? Santa hasn't got all year, you know."
Alfred looked up in despair, and began to scribble faster. "W-wait! Don't send them to Santa yet!" he cried. Just a few more sentences...
"You're the last one, Alfred," sighed Mr. Kirkland. It was the last day before the holidays, and his first graders were diligently writing their Christmas wish lists. There were only five more minutes to go, and Alfred, bless him, was on his third draft.
His little pink tongue was poking out from between his teeth, and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he carefully signed his name at the bottom. "Here you go, Mr. Kirkland!" he said, running up to the teacher's desk and placing the sheet of paper on top of the pile.
He was just in time, as the bell rang not a moment later. The other students had already gathered their things and lined up, and the teacher's assistant, a red eyed German who had a habit of scaring the children, was leading them outside.
Arthur watched as Alfred zipped up his pencil box and slipped it into his well-worn Superman backpack, hurrying to catch up with the others. Before he left, he looked back. "You'll make sure Santa reads my letter, right Mr. Kirkland? It's super-duper important."
Those serious blue eyes made Arthur feel a pang of guilt, somewhere deep in his chest. "I… of course, Alfred," he smiled. "Yours will be the first he reads."
The little boy's face broke out into a radiant grin. "Thank you, Mr. Kirkland! Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Al."
Arthur sighed again as he left. He hated lying to the children, but the parents expected it, and he couldn't bear to crush their sugar plum filled dreams. He absentmindedly picked up Alfred's letter. He wondered idly what sort of toy would be so important that he had to stay after school for an hour last week to practice his hand writing, just so "Santa" would be able to read it.
It'd be a shame if all that practice went to waste. At least someone should read it, if not Santa…
Arthur turned his eyes to the page, noting immediately that the extra practice hadn't gone to waste.
Dear Mr. Santa Claus,
My name is Alfred F. Jones, and I'm in the first grade. Mr. Kirkland says that if we tell you what we want for Christmas, you'll get it no matter what, and Mr. Kirkland knows everything so I know it's true.
Last month my brother Mattie left. Ms. Braginskaya told me that he found a family and that he wouldn't live at the boy's home anymore, but that he might visit sometime. He hasn't come yet, but I know he's been wanting that new polar bear toy, so could you get that for him?
Sometimes Mr. Kirkland comes to class and he's all sick and shaking and doesn't like loud noises or light, and Mr. Beilschmidt says it's because he gets sad and drinks special soda that's only for adults, so I want you to give him medicine that will make him happy and stop shaking so much.
I really like Christmas. It's my favorite holiday ever, but Mr. Kirkland says it's a holiday for family to spend together and since Mattie left I don't have any more family. The other boys don't like me that much because I break the toys sometimes when I'm having too much fun and Ms. Braginskaya is always busy , so could you give me a family? It's okay if it's just a small family, as long as we can spend time together and have fun and read stories and eat Christmas dinner together just like me and Mattie did.
I hope you have a nice Christmas and don't eat too many cookies, because Mr. Kirkland says that that will make you sick and all the other children need to get their presents too.
Love,
Alfred
By the time Arthur reached the childish cursive of the signature, the pangs in his chest had multiplied. He had known that Alfred was an orphan, but he had never imagined…
Oh, the poor boy. Arthur's own family had never liked him much, so he knew all too well what it was like to spend Christmas alone.
To his surprise, Arthur felt himself wiping away a tear. The child was so utterly selfless. Arthur was truly touched that Alfred had thought to include him in his letter. He wished with all his heart that there was something he could do for the boy.
Well, actually…
Christmas was tomorrow, and he didn't have any plans. He could visit for the day and volunteer, and at the same time inquire about looking for a permanent home for Alfred.
Arthur had been lonely for long time, and his house was much too large for one person. He had inherited enough for him to live off of (teaching was more of a hobby than a job to him, the salary was terrible), so money would never be a problem.
He scolded himself for getting too excited. Adoptions could take months, even years to go through, so it would take some time to get things in place, but even so.
Alfred was already almost like a son to him. No, not a son. He was only twenty-three, much too young for children. A younger brother.
He shrugged on his coat and picked up his briefcase. He had some research to do.
But first, he'd have to stop by the toy store for the perfect Christmas present.
A/N: This is one of two Christmas fics I have planned, along with a possible holiday omake for Tell Me I'm Dreaming. Speaking of which, chapter 10 should be up later today, for those who read it.
Happy holidays to all those who celebrate them!
Ciao~