A/N: AJ-the-bluejay requested the song and Pharaoh-Ink asked for a Mallard family Christmas with a younger Negaduck with Stellar and the two requests married perfectly.

This chapter does contain some abuse. Please tread carefully, take care of yourself, and feel free to skip this chapter if you need to.

This takes place when Negaduck was in his early teens.

"And you, Drake?"

He glanced up from his desk with a dark scowl.

"Me what?" he snapped.

Mrs. O'Toole pursed her lips and said, "What are you going to do over your Christmas break?"

Try and forget it.

He shrugged and returned his attention to the brown crayon in his lap, nails digging in to shave more of the soft edges away. "Dunno."

"Surely you have some traditions you and your family do every year."

He snapped the crayon in half and glanced back up at her. Tossing the broken pieces onto the ground, he wiped his hands on his sweatshirt and shrugged again. "We looked at lights when I was a kid, but we don't do much now. My dad's pretty busy."

Mrs. O'Toole nodded. "I'm sure Mayor Mallard has a lot do do over the holidays."

Drakey slumped back in his chair with a noncommittal nod. When her attention was directed at another student, Drakey dug out a new crayon from the box stashed in his desk and peeled away the paper before digging his nails into the soft wax once more.

When the bell rang only a few minutes later, Drakey stuffed his remaining crayons into his sweatshirt pocket and tossed his backpack over his shoulder, stomping the brown crayon to dust as he left the room.

He'd be able to melt the rest of them down tonight. Watching the sharp points he'd carved melt to nothing would be satisfying. Maybe he could mold the melted wax into something else.

"Merry Christmas, Drake," said Mrs. O'Toole as he walked by.

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered, heading out into the hall.

The halls were in pandemonium, happy cheers drowned out by the banging of lockers as everyone dropped off their books and headed out the doors. Drakey was shoved against the wall a few times, his bullies sneering at him as they lumbered past, but he didn't bother with retribution. Not today. Let them have their pathetic Christmas holiday. He'd get them back once they returned to school. There was nothing to look forward to but the relief of spring, and Drakey would use the long bleak winter months to his full advantage.

Stopping by his locker, he dumped all his books inside and grabbed his stash of lighters, cramming them into his backpack. Slamming the door shut, he headed down to the art room where he snatched a bigger box of crayons before using the side door to exit the building.

He cut across the empty playground, ignoring the happy cries of kids as they saw their parents. Everyone was congregated around the front of the school for one last gift exchange or a teary goodbye as they wished one another a merry Christmas before being bundled into their parents' cars and heading home. Or out of town. Or wherever they were going for this godforsaken holiday season.

Drakey pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head and stuffed his hands into the front pocket, trudging towards downtown.

Stellar wasn't waiting to pick him up. He hadn't picked Drakey up from school since Ana had died years ago. Sure, sometimes there was a car waiting for him, driven by some poor city employee who'd screwed up enough to be made a kid's chauffeur. But there was only ever a car if there was an important event Drakey needed to attend after school. Or if his grandfather was picking him up for the weekend.

Today didn't fall into any of those categories, so Drakey had to rely on himself to get home. Which he preferred.

The streets were swarming with people, children squealing at store windows, women shopping and marveling at the deals they were getting, men in suits pushing past everyone else, eyes staring straight ahead in determination. With the sun starting to set, the city lights had already started to flicker on for the night, citizens and visitors alike marveling at the decorations as they sparked to life. Each of the four streets that led to Town Square were decorated the same as they always were, all leading to the massive tree sitting in the middle of the city.

A group of kids skipped out of a candy store, hands filled with sweets and giggling incessantly. A couple, clearly tourists, had a map of the city open and were peering up and down the street, pointing in different directions and arguing. A mother bundled her children more securely against the biting wind, saying they'd get hot chocolate before looking at the lights. Drakey sneered at each group in turn, maneuvering around them all with increasing annoyance.

It was too much. The bright lights. The rich colors. The smothering smells. The incessant caroling. The forced cheer. The false promises.

Drakey hated it. All it was was a distraction from life. And not even a good one. Because time still soldiered on with the same disappointments and broken expectations, never mind that it was Christmas and everything was supposed to be magical.

Glancing up at all the decorations illuminating the night, Drakey had an overwhelming desire to tear it all down. Considering his collection of lighters in his backpack, he wondered how fast everything would catch fire. The pine garland, wreaths, and trees had to be dried out by now, having been on display for so long. They'd not only quickly go up in a blaze of glory, but would carry the flames all the way through the city. Now that would be an impressive Christmas.

Ducking down a side street, Drakey breathed easier as the decorations decreased. They weren't gone. There were still sprigs of holly and nests of lights — the amount of lights this holiday brought on was just obnoxious — but it wasn't nearly as overwhelming.

He used the less crowded side streets and abandoned alleyways to navigate the rest of his way home, able to avoid the relentless decorations.

Walking up to his house, Drakey smiled. There was no car parked in the driveway and there were no lights on inside. Stellar was probably out at a dinner or some holiday function, schmoozing the wealthy or more money and swindling everyone present into giving up something far more precious: their trust. Drakey could have a quiet night alone, which was the greatest gift of all.

He swung off his backpack and quickly located his keys, unlocking the front door and stepping in out of the frigid winter air and into the pungent stench of alcohol. Dropping his backpack onto the ground, he flicked the hall light on.

And ducked down when a bottle of half-filled whiskey came careening at his head. His reflexes managed to save him and it shattered harmlessly against the doorframe, the liquid spilling down and staining the baseboards.

Drakey glanced towards the living room and saw, to his dismay, the swaying silhouette of Stellar unfolding itself from the couch. "Why're you making so much damn noise?" Stellar demanded.

Was it too late for Drakey to leave? Disappear into the night and pretend he'd never even come home? Claim that Stellar had imagined the whole thing when he was confronted later? He grabbed his backpack and reached behind to grasp the door handle, slowly twisting it.

Stellar stumbled out into the front hall, squinting in the light and dashing Drakey's hopes of a quick getaway. "You have a death wish, boy? Shut off the light."

Drakey wisely kept his beak shut and stared up at his father with a carefully blank expression. But he kept the light on. Stellar was a bad enough enemy to face off in the light of day; the darkness only increased his hostility since he was no longer afraid of being seen.

Stellar raised his arm up, another whiskey bottle in hand, and smashed it against the wall next to Drakey's head.

The boy didn't flinch. Not even when Stellar shoved him against the door and pressed a shard of glass to his throat.

"Turn off the light," Stellar purred, a shiver racing down Drakey's spine at the soft tone. He reached back and floundered for the light switch. Feeling the bite of glass press against the soft flesh of his throat, he tried to swallow his fear and finally managed to locate the switch, flipping it off.

Stellar didn't let up, but instead pressed his advantage, gripping Drakey's shoulder hard and shoving him down. Drakey winced as he was forced to sit on the broken bottle shards, but didn't say anything as Stellar crouched down in front of him, the piece of glass once again pressed against Drakey's throat.

"You disobey me again," Stellar breathed, the stink of whiskey on his breath, "and you'll get more than a few scrapes. I have business deals during this holiday break of yours and if you so much as breathe in my direction, I swear to God I'll throw something heftier than a bottle at your head, and next time, I won't miss." Stellar glared at Drakey, his grey eyes glittering in the filtered beam of light from the streetlamp outside. "You understand me?"

Drakey nodded and winced when the shard of glass pressed into his neck, the sting telling him it had broken skin.

Stellar stared at Drakey for a few silent moments, pushing the glass farther into Drakey's neck before finally relenting and yanking it out. "Maybe you have some brains after all, Drakey," he sneered at the nickname and Drakey flinched.

That was what his mother had called him. Stellar liked to use it to remind Drakey of what he'd lost. To mock Drakey's memory of her. To take away the one thing that had been exclusively hers and twist it, make it something that triggered fear rather than security in his mind.

He wished there was a different name he could go by. Something completely separate from Ana or Stellar that wouldn't evoke these painful memories every time someone called for him.

"Stay out of my sight," Stellar said, shoving Drakey into the wall before standing. He shuffled down the hall to his bedroom, tossing the shard of glass to the floor on his way.

Drakey remained where he was for a few more moments, waiting for some indication that Stellar wasn't coming back before moving. He was rewarded a few moments later by soft snores coming from the master bedroom.

As quietly as he could, Drakey hoisted himself up onto his feet, biting back a whimper as glass shards buried themselves further into his skin. Hoisting his backpack up, he went straight to the bathroom where he turned on the shower and locked the door.

Using tweezers and the mirror, Drakey dug out all the pieces of glass that had cut into his skin. A warm shower followed before he bandaged up the worst of the cuts then slunk down to his room.

With his bedroom door closed, he shoved his desk in front of it. There was no way it would stop Stellar if he really wanted to get in, but it might slow him down enough for Drakey to escape through the window.

Changing into clean clothes, Drakey eased himself onto his bed, slowly maneuvering into the most comfortable position he could find that aggravated his injuries the least. Sprawled on his stomach, Drakey fisted a pillow and shoved it under his head, staring off at a far wall.

Mrs. O'Toole's question surfaced from earlier that day. "What are you going to do over your Christmas break?"

This.

This was what he was going to do for Christmas break. Barricade himself in his room and hope to God his father never found him when he was in one of his moods.

That wasn't an answer your teacher wanted to hear, though. They wanted to know about presents and decorations and excursions to see the downtown area all lit up for the holidays.

But Drakey had done all of that before.

And look where loving Christmas had gotten Mama.