"Later on, we'll conspire,
As we dream, by the fire,
To face unafraid,
The plans that we've made,
Walking in a Winter wonderland..."
— Winter Wonderland
Various Artists

Sobering up wasn't as easy as Charles Deetz hoped it would be. It wasn't like when he was alive and could just wait, sleep it off, drink some coffee, and down some carbs to soak up whatever foul swill was swirling about his stomach. When he woke up that first night after passing away, his breath still reeked of whiskey, his vision was still tripled, and he was still having a difficult time processing where he was and what had happened.

For a moment, he thought he was still alive and back in the house on the hill. But, this bed was too small. The walls weren't the right color. Wasn't he looking for something? Someone...?

Lydia.

It came back to him in bits and pieces. He clung to what he could, stumbling through pacing the comfortable dungeon. He was pretty sure he was dead. He was also fairly certain the bastard poltergeist locked him here. Why? He couldn't remember. On his next visit, Charles tried socking him in the jaw again on mere principle only to get laid out flat on his ass.

The next visit was marginally better. He was still foolish enough to spit insults at the unfazed ghoul, but Charles remembered why he was there and what he was doing. Sobering up. For Lydia. She was pregnant. She needed him.

Today was the best day he'd had in a while. He could walk in a kind of straight line. His vision was only a little wobbly. In fact, he was sober enough to be bored. There wasn't any television down here, no books, no nothing. Just miserable Charles Deetz and his miserable thoughts.

The lock unclicked. He scrambled to sit upright from where he was laying with his head hanging over the edge of the bed, blinking rapidly at the rush. He had to look good and in his right mind or he would never get out of there.

"I know why I'm here," he said first as soon as the striped fiend was in his sights, chewing the syllables to make sure he didn't slur by accident. "I know I'm dead. I know Lydia's pregnant. Will you let me out now?" He swallowed, hating that he'd been driven to this. "Please?"

In the first week of the twins' lives, Betel didn't bother leaving them to go and check on Charles. He was far too obsessed with his daughters and his healing wife to bother with his drunken father-in-law in the basement.

But now, with the twins a week old already and Lydia starting to recover, he figured it was time to check-in. He kissed his girls on their foreheads, all three of them asleep, and called Tilly in to keep watch. Bubby had the task of curling around his mother to keep her warm and safe. He made his way down begrudgingly, surprised to find the man as alert as he was.

"Well, hello to you too, dad. N' yer wrong. She ain't pregnant no more."

He pulled a stack of polaroids he'd taken in the first few days from his pocket. Miraculously, Holly showed up on film, comforting her father into thinking she wasn't entirely dead. They were mostly tasteful. One of the girls with their foreheads pressed together. Another of them holding hands in their sleep. One of Lydia, asleep with a baby on each shoulder. One of her feeding them both, a tired smile on her face. He plopped down beside his father-in-law and handed him the stack.

"Yer close, Chuck. Real close. If ya keep it up, ya might get to see em by New Years."

"Twins?!"

Grinning deliriously, Charles filtered through the photos, quickly the first round, then again more slowly. They were beautiful, even the one that favored her hideous father's coloring. Seeing Lydia so unquestionably happy knocked the breath out of him. Had he ever seen her look like that? So weightless and carefree? Ever once her entire life?

"My mother was a twin," he muttered on his third run-through of the photos, committing his granddaughters' tiny, perfect features to memory. Charles' mother was also a dreadful, heartless cunt, but that didn't seem worth mentioning. "So was her great-grandmother… Guess it skips a couple generations."

Now, he was more determined than ever to get out. This was his legacy, the most important thing he had ever done. Fuck all his work in the real estate industry, fuck every building he ever renovated, and every cent he ever swindled. That was nothing compared to this beautiful mark he had helped to make on the world. The dark-haired infant in particular stabbed a knife deep into his heart. These babes were far too beautiful to keep any of the poltergeist's features. They took entirely after Lydia, which meant this was probably what his daughter looked like when she was an infant.

When he wasn't there to be her father and protect her.

He deserved to rot in this hole.

He wasn't sober enough yet. He couldn't be trusted to hold one of these angels. What if he tripped or stumbled? No, he couldn't even stomach dwelling on the thought. More time was needed before he would be worthy of acting as their grandfather.

"I'll be ready by New Years," he promised with fierce determination, finally lifting glassy eyes from the photos. "What are their names? Please tell me it's not anything insect-related."

Hopefully, Lydia retained enough sense to not allow him to name their children anything as silly as Beetlejuice.

Betelgeuse watched him pour through the photos of his grandchildren, again and again, wondering if he was remorseful to have missed this stage in his daughter's life. Surely it was becoming more real. His daughter wasn't coming home.

He snorted when he asked about the names. Taking a photo of the two girls, he pointed to the dark-haired one first.

"This here is Tara. Short for Tarantula. And this is Maggie. Short for Maggot."

At the look on his father-in-law's face, he burst into laughter. "Oh my god! You're too easy. Hell no, they ain't named after bugs!" He chortled to himself as he started over, beginning with Lydia's mini-me once more.

"This is Ivy, and this is Holly. You know... the Holly and the Ivy. Like the Christmas carol." He patted the man on the back firmly. "Merry Christmas, Chuck. I'll see ya at New Year's."

He left the man with the photos and went back to his family. Their first Christmas was upon them. Holly was laying awake and stared at him when he came in. He grinned and whispered to her. "Hey... wanna be my elf for momma's presents?"

Lydia awoke to the gravelly voice of her husband whispering conspiratorially over the twins' bassinet. Something about elves… and Christmas? Bolting up with a gasp, suddenly energized despite her suffering sleep schedule— Betelgeuse was good about changing diapers while she slept, but she was the only one that could feed them, which meant lots of late-night wake-up calls for sleepy mama— she flounced across the bed to hug him from behind, grinning over his shoulder at their wide-awake babies. It was good of them to lay there quietly and let her get a little sleep.

"It's Christmas!"

The blizzard from the night of their birth, which according to Betelgeuse was nothing short of a miracle, had raged for three days before finally calming. Everyone across the Neitherworld was snowed in for the holidays, making it impossible for anyone to visit. If she could get her husband in a good mood, he would likely poof Adam and Barbara there for her— who was she kidding? He would do anything she asked of him— but Lydia was inclined to keep it just the family today. Grandma and Grandpa could bring their gifts later.

She was still aching in places and unhappy with the state of her body, but her healing was rapid. Every time she fed the twins, it seemed like she was just a little bit stronger, more vibrant. She felt good enough to venture into the Winter Wonderland outside and play in the snow… if Betelgeuse gave his blessing, of course.

"Let's build a snowman, Beej! I've never done that before. Unless you think it's too cold…? Holly will probably be fine, but do you think it would be okay for Ivy if we bundled her up good?"

He grinned as his wife's lithe arms wrapped around him. "Hey! You were supposed to be sleepin'!" He turned in her hold to kiss her gently. "N' it's only Christmas Eve."

He ran his hand through her hair, relieved to see the life that had returned to her overall countenance. Even a week later, he couldn't shake the image of his wife lying in that tub out of his head.

At her request to go out and play in the snow, he chuckled, crooking a finger and summoning an old-fashioned baby buggy from the nursery. A wave of his hand secured a ball of warmth within it. Carefully, he transferred the girls from their bed, taking the time to kiss them each before wrapping them in a blanket and laying them in the stroller.

"Well, I think a snowman is a great idea. Go get dressed, momma. Wear somethin' warm. I got the girls." Holly started to cry the moment her mother was out of sight. He rolled his eyes and picked her up. "Now, how ya gonna make yer old man look bad like that. On Christmas! Good lord."

It's only Christmas Eve.

"Christmas is Christmas is Christmas!" Lydia prattled on excitedly, already on her way to the walk-in closet before he gave his permission, conjuring that enchanted stroller and readying their girls for a day in the snow. There was already a towering… well, not quite a pine, but something Neitherworldian and pine-like that Betelgeuse cut down from the edge of their property. It was erected in the living room and strung up with bright lights like any other Christmas tree. Better, in Lydia's opinion.

They were saving ornament hanging for today, establishing their own family traditions.

"I say we build a snowman, then I'll make hot cocoa and we can hang ornaments together." A soft sound puffed past her lips, not quite a laugh but more than a sigh. "Dad used to put the star up every Christmas Eve. He was usually too busy with work stuff to help with actual ornament hanging, but he always made time for that…"

A pang in her chest slowed her as she pulled on thick tights under her heavy Winter dress. Did she miss him? Even after he said that horrible, unforgivable thing? She was only human. It was natural to miss the man who raised her, wasn't it?

It didn't matter. She would never see him again. It was better that way. He didn't want her anyway. He was probably happier without her wherever he was. Hurrying along, Lydia emerged in the lovely dark coat she hadn't had an opportunity to wear yet, as well as a pair of sleek gloves that melted snow wouldn't leak through and luxurious fur-lined boots.

"Warm enough?" She was already beginning to work up a sweat wearing such heavy items in their toasty, fire-warmed bedroom.

He looked her over, whistling low as he eyed her.

"Damn, baby. Did I buy you that? I don't even remember it." He quickly ran his hands over her, checking to see if the layers beneath the coat were up to his standards. "Well, seems warm enough to me!"

He snapped and was suddenly dressed in a heavy wool pea coat complete with signature stripes, of course. A plush blanket was tucked in around the babies, their father stopping to kiss them just one more time. He found he couldn't get enough of them. Maybe that was normal. He didn't know.

"Well, family. Let's go play with some snow."

The dogs scrambled up at the mention of play, running downstairs for the front door, tails wagging and claws scraping along the hardwood. Betelgeuse wrapped an arm around his wife and kissed her gently.

"Come on."

"Nobody bought it," she flushed under his attention, only partly having to do with the heat. "I made it."

Her seamstressing skills were only honed during her maternity leave. Though it wasn't a full leave. Betelgeuse converted one of the empty bedrooms into a workshop for her, Ginger provided the fabric and orders, and she went to town creating in her spare time. The soft quilt currently wrapped around the babes was a creation of hers. The long jacket was something she worked on for herself in hopes she would fit it once pregnancy was done and over. It was a little snug around her middle, but she would be starting a pilates regimen soon to get to work on that.

"You really think it's that good? Like something Ginger would make?" She'd put countless hours into the thick fur trim and stuffing the inner lining, perfecting every little detail, so her husband's misconception was validating indeed. The thick blanket of snow covering the property glistened beautifully, reflecting the crimson and orange sky to give the illusion of warmth despite the reality of how cold it was. A chill nipped at her nose and flushed cheeks, but she grinned through it, enraptured.

"Look, babies," she lifted a handful of the powdery stuff, bringing it close to her daughters' faces so they could coo and aim gummy smiles at the mysterious substance. "This is snoooww. See how pretty it is? Daddy said you made this."

"That coat is damn beautiful. God, yer gettin so good at that shit."

He had spent many hours in the corner going over his paperwork while she sewed. The silent togetherness was something he looked forward to. Maybe when the twins were older they could get back to it.

He smiled as she showed the girls the snow, Holly immediately landing a heavy hand on the pile and scattering it. Carefully, he packed snow into his hands, waiting until she wasn't looking to land the snowball square on her ass. He cackled, holding his stomach as he laughed.

"You were right, babes. Playing in the snow was a great idea!" He plopped himself down in a snowdrift, leaning back into it like an armchair.

Lydia gaped at him relaxing back in the snow like a slob after smacking her in the ass with a snowball like that.

"Jerk! Bully!"

This only made him cackle harder and sink deeper into the pile from the movements.

"Never marry a man like your father, girls," Lydia instructed the amused infants, flustering as she stooped down to gather more snow, enough to build a large snowball to slug him in the face with. "The bad boy types are all fun and games until he takes you out into the cold to build a snowman. Then, betrayal. Icy… cold… betrayal!"

On the last word, she spun around to launch her attack on him, only to miss entirely without him even making an effort to dodge, the ball of snow flying off several yards to the left. Lydia was a terrible aim. He about died again from laughter. Positively tomato faced, Lydia shrieked her frustration and made to try again, determined to show the bastard what was what.

Back turned to him, she completely missed the gigantic snowball materializing out of thin air behind her, spinning rapidly in place to build momentum. The twins, aware but not, smiled precious toothless smiles from within their warm enclave, hands clasped as they often were. Someone had to defend Mommy from their villainous father.

He couldn't help how hard he laughed as she tried to get her revenge and failed beautifully. When he finally calmed, he stood up and reached for her, only to be hit square in the face with a snowball the size of a Subaru. It knocked him clean off his feet and across the yard, managing to daze him as he sat up with his head spinning, literally, and reached up to still it.

"Jesus fuckin'..."

He sputtered, looking around for the source of the attack and failing to locate anyone but his family. He frowned at his wife, then gaped over her shoulder as another snowball started to form midair, closely followed by another that pulled itself together from a pile of snow on the ground, then levitated to hover beside the first.

"It's... it... HOLLY? Are you doing that?" The baby giggled and twisted as though denying it. Ivy grinned wide, the second snowball launching toward the back of his head. "IVY GEUSE! WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?"

He shook his head, pointing at the twins accusingly. "Lydia! Control your daughters!"

It would have been Lydia's turn to laugh if she wasn't reeling with astonishment… and worry. She knew the girls would likely inherit their father's juice, even the very mortal-looking Ivy. It was something she often dwelled on throughout the pregnancy. However, she didn't think it would manifest so soon. They were only a week old! Lydia herself was only human, no special abilities, no nothing. What would it look like if she ever needed to ground them? Put them in time out?

Her pale complexion whitened further at the horrifying possibilities, watching on as a tidal wave of snow rose from the ground only to come avalanching down on her unsuspecting husband, burying him. The babes were making happy shrieking sounds, obviously pleased with themselves, and despite her inner turmoil, Lydia couldn't deny the primal joy that sound gave her.

Smiling, trepidation shelved for the time being, she hunched over their stroller to distract them with tickles.

"You got him, yes you did! Who are my big, strong girls? You're gonna give us a run for our money one day, won't you? Little handfuls…"

At their mother's voice, they calmed their pranking, entranced, and Lydia bent down to give them a kiss each.

"Leave Daddy alone now, okay?"

He sputtered and unburied himself, laying on the pile of snow and pouting.

"A week old and already ganging up on Dad! I'm outnumbered!" He got to his feet and brushed the snow off. "Alright, you girls. No more powers against Dad. Or Mama. You gotta be nice!" He wrapped his arm around Lydia's waist, kissing her cheek.

"Ivy, ya wanna make our snowman's head? Huh? Can you make Daddy a snowball?" She gurgled and did nothing more. "Oh, I see. Can't do it when I ask for it, but you'll run me over with an avalanche when I'm not lookin'." He pulled Lydia away from the stroller and started a snowball on his own.

"Let's make this snowman! Come on, baby... lighten up. Ya look upset. They were just playin'."

He knew that the girls having powers was bound to unnerve her, seeing as she was now the only one in the family without otherworldly manipulative abilities.

"They might grow out of em ya know."

"I'm fine," Lydia brushed it off, fixing her tight expression and kneeling in the snow with him to help build the base of the snowman. "I don't want them to grow out of it. It's a part of who they are. It's how they'll keep themselves safe. It's just…"

She nibbled at her bottom lip, shooting a wary glance at the as of now harmless stroller.

"Did it have to happen so soon? Why couldn't they have kept being normal harmless babies for a couple more years? What am I supposed to do once they start walking and talking and using their powers against each other? Against me? You can't be there to play big bad Daddy all the time, Beej."

Brows furrowed deeply, she patted some more snow onto the ball that would be the base, flattening the top so its midsection wouldn't just roll off.

"I can see it now. 'Holly, you're grounded' and then zap! And I'm locked in a closet all day. Or worse. It's just… a little intimidating."

He paused his rolling to hear her concerns, his face tensing as she went on. "Well... once they can control it better... or understand it better... the office'll prolly want t'put some rules on their powers anyway. Ya gotta remember... just 'cause I'm a family man now don't mean they've forgotten why I was locked up in the first place."

He hefted the ball of snow onto Lydia's, packing snow into the space where they met to smooth it out and make it more stable. "They're sweet girls already, and they don't even have personalities yet. I'm not worried about it. We raise 'em right and they'll know better than to use their powers against ya. Ever."

He peeked around the snowman at her, smiling softly. "Christmas from now on is gonna be crazy. A birthday and Christmas back to back? These poor kids will have to wait all year for presents!"

It was a blatant lie. They'd already multiplied in belongings since their arrival. Every time they looked like they might need something, Dad conjured it. Maybe it was watching him that had inspired this awakening of their abilities. He suddenly felt responsible for his wife being so uneasy.

"Baby... they're a week old. We have time t'figure it out."

The office will probably want to put some rules on their powers.

This only poured gasoline over his fidgety wife's anxiety.

"They'll keep their filthy hands off of them if they know what's good for them," she growled the venomous threat as if it meant anything, as if she was just as magically apt as the rest of their little family. Almost violently, she slapped more snow onto the midsection, scowling horribly. The prospect of her own children turning on her was not nearly as upsetting as the idea that those fucking suits would come anywhere near them, especially if they intended to bind them in chains like they would their father given the opportunity.

Juno told them both when they first discovered the pregnancy that there were people who wouldn't be happy about this. Lydia, her pregnancy, and the twins; they'd all been sequestered from the rest of the Neitherworld pretty much since Lydia began showing. Who knew what enemies were out there lurking?

Ivy began to fuss and whine, sensing her mother's upset, and Holly wasn't far behind, always on the same wavelength as her twin. Lydia flew to them, abandoning the snowman to fake a happy face for the babies. Making sure they were bundled good and snug, she very briefly brought them out from the warm cocoon and into her arms so they could experience the magical, snowy landscape first hand.

"Look," she twirled around slowly, the heavy drape of her long coat swinging with her, "look at what you did. You're amazing..."

The rest of their evening was spent playing in the snow before taking the babies in and giving them a warm bath, dressing them in their matching Christmas jammies, and tucking them into their bassinet at the base of the Christmas tree. Betel carefully made him and his wife each a large, steaming cup of cocoa and plopped a Santa hat onto his head as he carried them to her on the couch. The fireplace roared into life and a Christmas movie came on the big screen over it.

He settled in beside her, passing her mug and kissing her cheek firmly. "First family Christmas Eve! I think it's a keeper. We should build a snowman every year with the girls. Even if it don't snow down here. Can always take a Holiday vacation topside."

He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her gently. "You gotta go t'bed after this movie. Santa Juice has some magic t'make."

Not ready to let the day end, Lydia argued with him childishly, fighting through a large yawn that belied her true exhaustion.

"But I'm not sleepy—"

The yawn won, and once it worked itself out she pouted at the look on her husband's face, the one that said See? Told you so. Lydia was always sleepy these days. Even if she went down now, she would be up again in a couple of hours to feed the twins. They were finicky about taking milk from the bottle. They would with some coaxing, but they preferred it directly from the source.

"I still wanna make cookies, and Ginger said Sandy Claws would come."

Given the bizarre atmosphere of the Neitherworld, Lydia was more inclined to believe her than the cynical Monster Across the Street. As much growing as Lydia had done throughout her marriage, she was still very child-like in many ways when compared to her ancient, jaded husband.

It's a Wonderful Life was nearing its end, her eyelids were drooping further with each passing moment, but Lydia was stubborn to a fault.

"At least let's make cookies…"

He chuckled, waving a hand and sending the girls up to bed. He lifted his wife into his arms and carried her, enjoying half a moment alone.

"Well, whoever's comin' he can't show up until yer asleep! We can bake cookies tomorrow. After presents." He grinned, already excited to watch her face light up when she received hers. Maybe he had gone a bit overboard, but he only got to spoil her with presents once in a while. She complained if he did it too often.

With a blink, he had her clothed in a pair of soft, red velveteen pajamas, her hair piling up on her head so she wouldn't get too warm as he tucked her into their big bed. A glance at the bassinet revealed their twins snoozing happily in each other's embrace.

"Merry Christmas, kitten. I love ya so much..." He climbed in behind her, pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders gently.

The twins only woke one time throughout the night, and once they latched on Lydia went right back to sleep as they suckled away, her husband staying up and watching to put them back in the crib and button her pajamas closed when the process was done.

However, once what passed as daylight in the Neitherworld began to peek through the edge of the heavy drapes, Lydia awoke on her own just as she had the previous day, full of childlike excitement and wonder.

"Beej, wake up," she shook him, not bothering to give him a gentle good morning. "It's Christmas! It's Christmas!"

Flying up and out of bed, the twins were the only thing that stopped her from running down the steps two at a time to investigate the tree. She was a mother now. She had responsibilities. Impatient but lovingly, she took the time to change their diapers and clothes before touting them carefully, but hastily, down the steps. The sight that met her was wondrous. Presents upon presents spilled out from beneath the tree. All of Betelgeuse's, even the ones addressed to her, were tagged from Daddy, but the boxes that especially had her attention were wrapped in a shiny red metallic paper, from Santa Claus written in a beautiful, tidy cursive with red ink.

Eight stockings lined the mantle, one for each member of their family even the furry beasts, full to the brim with treats and trinkets in line with their individual tastes. After favoring the girls with a shiny new pacifier each, giving each of the dogs a big, aromatic bone to chew on, and doping both Percy and Luna up with premium catnip, Lydia dug into her own stocking. She was pleased to find it filled with quality Belgian white chocolate, as well as an eyeshadow pallet and a tube of mascara from the living realm that she had been eyeing before ever coming to the Netherworld.

With a gasp, she brought a bright gaze up to her cranky husband, floating out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee.

"He is real."