Archive of Our Own ^beta

A bird skull, a raccoon leg, a femur. His eager eyes feasted on the findings before him. In spite of the frozen ground and this vessel’s lesser strength, Abaddon had done it. Even these puny, boy fingers couldn’t stop his foraging. 

Seated by the fireplace, Abaddon laid on his stomach as he examined them, his legs swaying behind as he took the raccoon’s into his hands. Though their mere presence delighted him, they would be best put to use. Perhaps Esther was in need. One could never have enough for the dark arts. 

Speaking of the devil, though only honorary, a pair of footsteps joined him. Oh, what timing she had. Abaddon lifted his head. 

“Hello, Esther. Are these of interest to— oh, it’s just you.” 

His frown mirrored the matriarch’s. With the hand aiding her hip, she didn’t look pleased— as was the usual with her. 

“Abaddon, what did I tell you about bringing bones into the hotel?” 

“To keep them away from onlookers,” he recited. “Which I did. As you know, if we had any guests they would be upstairs not down.” He leaned towards the open fire. “And the vessel was in need of warmth.”

Katherine opened her mouth to speak, though it ultimately fell short of words. Her brows knit together as did his. She had yet to answer. “Was that not correct?” 

Her face reddened. After a moment, an arm thrust out from behind her. “Here.” Her voice was softer than her stance would suggest. In her grip was a sheet of paper. When he didn’t immediately take it, she shook it for emphasis. Abaddon raised a brow. 

“What’s this for?” 

“So you can make your wish list. It needs to be done by today.” 

“…My wish list?” 

“Yes,” Katherine answered, which didn’t answer his question whatsoever. When he failed to reach for it a second time, Katherine sighed and placed it on the top of his head. He huffed as he shook it off. She wasn't very patient. 

“Ben and Esther are already making theirs and before you ask, no, you can’t ask for corpses. Or bones,” she said, then added with a grimace. “Or knives. Or better yet, just don’t ask for any weapons this year, okay? The last thing we need is to be on a watchlist somewhere.” 

As Katherine held a pencil out to him, he took it tentatively. “A list of wishes.” 

“It’s pretty straightforward, Abaddon. Just make a list of everything you want this year, and I’ll see what I can—“ 

“Everything?” 

“Yes, everything, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get everything that’s on it.” Katherine sighed, though he could hear some amusement in her voice. And why wouldn’t there be at a time like this?” 

“You mean to tell me you have the ability to grant wishes?” Abaddon sat up in an instant. It was only a matter of time before she was influenced by the supernatural. Esther was blossoming in witchcraft. 

“I have the ability… to get you some things. I’m not a genie.” Katherine said, then continued with a small grin. “But I’ll have Santa’s help.” 

“Satan?” His eyes widened. 

“No,” she nearly laughed. “Santa.” 

Abaddon frowned. That wasn’t nearly as exciting. “You speak that name like I should know who it is.”

“Don’t worry about him.” Katherine shook her head. As she started to move, she nodded to his paper. “Just get started.” 

He stared down at it. As Abaddon was led to believe, this paper was to hold his most longed for wishes, but only those that the matriarch would approve of, and even then only some would come into forwishen. Yet, she shared the responsibility of carrying out these wishes with this… Santa. Did he have his own limitations, or was he free from the restraints of man? It was all so confusing, made more difficult with his inability to read or write. 

“Matriarch, what am I to do with—?”

And in her typical fashion, she was gone. Abaddon grumbled as he poked at the bird’s skull, unknowingly using it to relieve his stress. He couldn’t let these wishes go to waste. Katherine was off to who knows where, and while Nathan never strayed too far, he would be of little help in his incorporeal form. 

That left him with only one choice—or two, depending on who was willing. 

In a hotel as large as theirs, it didn’t take long to find them. The vents made sure of that. With Ben buried at his desk and Esther writing away from the comfort of the bed, Abaddon decided the best way to get their attention was to fall through the vent in the ceiling. The paper drifted to the floor, followed sharply by the pencil almost in warning before he dropped through. 

The vessel’s body smacked the floor. Like a shockwave, Ben yelped as he wobbled helplessly in his chair. He scrambled to maintain balance, but not before it tipped over. Esther laughed as he hit the floor. “What an entrance.” 

“I found it to be necessary.” 

“Necessary, how?” Ben groaned as he backed away from his fallen seat. “We have doors, you know.” He rubbed his head as he pointed. 

“Hallways are too slow.” 

“In who’s world?” 

“In Abaddon’s, duh.” Esther said. “Get with the times.” 

Abaddon’s mouth twitched. He was still getting accustomed to having a mortal as more than an acquaintance, yet alone a ‘best friend’ as she put it. The unwavering support was most appreciated. 

“Uh, huh.” Ben said. After rubbing his head enough times, he dropped his hand. “Well… I would still appreciate a warning next time.” 

Abaddon tilted his head. He didn’t understand why that mattered so much to him, but he rarely understood Ben’s way of thinking. At least it wasn’t much of a request. “Fine. I’ll do my best to remember, brother.” 

Like his mother earlier, his face turned to a shade of red. It wasn’t out of anger or frustration either, which he found odd. 

“You—you don’t have to call me that.” 

“But we’re brothers within reason, are we not?”

Ben ran a hand down his face. “...I did say that, didn’t I?” 

"Indeed." 

“Aww,” Esther cooed. “Did Abby just give you the warm fuzzies?” 

Even with his face partially covered, he could see him reddening further. Abaddon frowned. “I didn’t provide him with any warmth.” 

Esther laughed. “You’re so good at your job, you don’t even know it.” A big smile joined her. “What did you come here for anyway? Or was it just to mess with my brother? I wouldn’t blame ya.” 

“Hey!” 

“Hey, my butt. It’s not our fault you’re so easy to tease.” 

As their bickering went about, Abaddon reached for the paper and pencil on the ground. He interrupted them by abruptly raising them above his head. “I’m in need of your assistance!"

The pair turned their attention to him. Ben put the pieces together faster than she did. Understandably, so. Abaddon only used these tools on the rare occasion the icebox looked empty. “Oh, you’re making a Christmas list too?” 

“Christmas… list?” He asked. “I was told to make a wish list. Is there a difference?” 

“Nope,” Esther chimed in. “It’s the same thing except one sounds more boring than the other. Did mom tell you that?” He nodded. “Yeah, that checks out.” 

 “It’s not boring,” Ben insisted. “ Mom just has… a different way of calling it. You know that.” 

“Yeah, I know she’s lacking in the whimsy department. Come here, Abaddon.” She patted the spot beside her. “You don’t have to listen to Ben go on a mom tangent. I’ll help you make your list.” 

Ben gasped. Abaddon ignored him as he moved to join her. “First of all, that was rude. And second, I’m just saying we don’t have to be so hard on her. What’s wrong with that?” 

“Man, you’re really proving those allegations.” 

“What allegations?” 

Once seated on the bed, Abaddon sighed. “I may not understand the humor of you mortals at times, but even I know you’re just falling into Esther’s trap of teasing. Again.” 

Silence fell over the group, but it was soon interrupted with laughter. 

“Got him. Good one, Abaddon.” Esther raised a hand to the air expectantly. He raised a brow. That wasn’t how they initiated their handshake. 

Even Ben huffed a laugh as he moved to set his chair upright. “Fine, fine, you have a point. This time. But maybe let’s talk less about how gullible I am and more on Abaddon’s Christmas list. What happened to that?” 

“Oh! Right.” Esther reached for the pencils she was using and brought them closer. “Okay, first, forget about your pencil. Plain is boring. These ones are way better, trust me.” She held them out to him like a fan. “Which color do you want?” Abaddon’s brows furrowed together. Before he could speak, she winced. “Oh, right… Sorry, man. I forgot.”

He shrugged as she chose the darkest shade of grey. The color on the paper didn’t matter to him, only the words. Or… what he could only assume were words. It was all loops and dips to him. 

After making some large marks at the top of the sheet, Esther turned to him. “Sooo, Abby. Do you know what you want?” 

“Oh, well…” What did he want? It was ironic how urgent it felt to make this list, but now that he was finally starting, his mind had never felt more empty. Abaddon frowned in thought. 

“Aww, it’s okay if you don’t know, Abaddon. That’s what brainstorming is for.” Her elbow bumped into his side, both stopping himself from frowning further and to bring out a faint smile.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” 

“Did you have any doubts?” Esther grinned before moving to rest on her stomach. “Okay, so, let’s tie it to stuff you like. That’s pretty easy. You love finding bones.” 

“The matriarch forbade me from wishing for bones or corpses.” 

“Seriously? That’s like your favorite thing in the whole world!” Esther said before going on to roll her eyes. “She’s no fun.” 

“You could maybe ask for a shovel?” Ben added. He raised a brow in surprise. He didn’t think he was still listening. “That’ll help you get bones without outright asking for bones, you know?” 

“Ben, you’re a genius!” Esther exclaimed. In a rare show of sibling affection, her eyes sparked like the stars found their way inside them. Their brother reddened, which Abaddon now understood to be abashment. 

“It’s nothing, really.” Ben laughed, averting their gaze. “It’s just a place to start.” 

“A really good place to start. I’m writing it down right now.” As she did, and without looking up from the paper, she made a circular motion with her hand. “Keep the ball rolling. Come on. What else?” 

“Okay, sis. Calm down.” Ben laughed again and sat straighter in his seat. He turned his head to him. “How about Froot Loops? You love those, don’t you?” 

“I could wish for sustenance?” Abaddon’s eyes widened. He wouldn’t have thought of that. “Then I would like those as well.” 

“On it!” 

Ben huffed amusingly as Esther wrote like her life depended on it. “Alright, great. We’re getting somewhere. What else do you like?” He asked. “Like… seriously. Besides violence, all I know that you like are bones and cereal.” 

Her gaze snapped up. “We’ve lived with Abaddon for how long and you don’t know his favorite stuff?” 

“I—I know two things!” 

“For shame, brother. For shame.” Esther shook her head. “Do you want me to put PB&J’s on here? Ooh, or maybe your own knife?”

“The sandwich would be nice, thank you. As for the knife, Katherine said I couldn’t wish for weapons either.” 

Esther tsked as she continued. “Of course she did. I’ll put you down for… a butter knife.” 

“So, you want a shovel, a box of fruit loops, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

"And a butter knife."

"And a butter knife" Ben repeated after him. “That’s honestly a lot more wholesome than I expected from you.” 

“When I’m barred from the essentials of demonhood, these are the choices that I’m left with.” 

But though Abaddon wouldn’t admit to himself or anyone for that matter, it was nice to be part of today's event, even with its limitations. 

“Aw, when you put it like that... Esther could keep writing stuff for you though. Is there anything else that you’d want?” 

“Is glory something one could ask for?” 

Esther laughed, having remembered their talk. “No, glory isn’t something you can ask mom for. I don’t think even Santa could.” 

Again with this mysterious figure. “Then in that case," he announced with a nod. "I suppose I am done.”