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Scarlet's 12 Prompts for Christmas

He Sees You When You're Sleeping

For once in what felt like forever the house was quiet, it was calm. You, Trunks, and Goten were in the living room, your brother and Goten quiet as they concentrated on untangling the strings of lights. Your mother had given it to you as a task, but once she left to make hot chocolate, you quickly planted the lights in Trunks’ lap, opting to organize the tree ornaments.

“This is stupid,” He was mumbling to himself, and it took all your strength not to laugh at his apparent struggles. Instead, you covered your snort with a cough, though judging from his side glare, it was safe to say he still got the message. 

“You’re doing great guys,” You encouraged them, smiling as he poked his tongue out aggressively at you, before his concentration shifted as he and Goten started to make a breakthrough.

You could hear your mom and grandmother in the kitchen, soft music playing through one of your mother’s homemade speakers. You had just gotten into a nice rhythm of organizing when your father walked in, sweaty as he was leaving the gravity chamber, and he paused in the doorway, eyeing the two of you curiously.

“What on earth are the pair of you doing?”

“Getting ready to decorate the Christmas tree,” You replied cheerfully, holding up some ornaments to emphasize your point.

Trunks nor Goten were paying attention, too focused on making sure they didn’t re-tangle the previously tangled knot of lights. Your father looked unamused as the two hurried to start wrapping the lights around the tree.

“You earthlings and your holidays. You all seem to just enjoy excuses to receive material items.”

You couldn’t fully argue with him there, opting to shrug as the boys worked on reaching the top of the tree. They moved a bit too quickly, and there would be gaps in the lights, but it was endearing to see them so excited about this.

“Do you wanna help us, dad?” Trunks landed with a proud look on his face, Goten landing next to him, excited as he rushed to grab an ornament from you.

Your father scoffed, “No.”

Trunks rolled his eyes, souring at your father's answer. “This is why Santa doesn’t bring you presents, dad. You’re like Scrouge.”

“You mean Scrooge?” Goten looked puzzled at the jab, and Trunks paused, embarrassed at being corrected.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“Who is this… Santa? And why would he bring presents?”

The three of you looked at him, mixtures of confusion, bafflement, and amusement.

“You don’t know who Santa is?” Goten spoke first, eyes impossibly wide.

Your father merely tsk’ed, already annoyed with the topic at hand. You were astonished, to say the least. How had your father been on earth as long as he had and hadn’t learned who Santa was? You didn’t expect him to necessarily believe, but at least know of him. 

“He’s Santa Claus,” You started to explain, knowing full well both Trunks and Goten still believed in him, courtesy of your mother and mother-in-law, “He uh, he watches the kids of the world. If they’re nice he brings them presents on Christmas.”

“If we’re naughty we get coal!” 

Trunks laughed, “Yeah dad! You gotta help us or else you’ll get coal for Christmas.”

Your father remained quiet, though his gaze didn’t move from you. You could feel a bead of sweat forming on your scalp— why were you getting the infamous Vegeta stare-down? Trunks was the one goading him. 

“There’s an earthling that just… watches the children of this planet, and judges them?”

“Well I mean,” He sounded dangerous, and you were floundering with your words, wishing your mother was here to explain better than you could, “Yeah?”

“Not just kids,” Trunks started to butt in, and as much as you loved your younger brother, he needed to keep his mouth shut, “He still brings (Y/N) gifts!”

“He watches you as well?”

“Well. I suppose? It’s just like— it’s what he does. He—”

“It’s like the song!” Goten supplied cheerfully, “He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good—”

“Thank you, Goten,” You cut him off with a smile, “You— I think my dad gets the point.”

In the kitchen, Bulma and Pancy were talking, hushed voices discussing the gifts that they had gotten, what had yet to be bought, and what plans they had coming up. Bulma was excited, holidays were always a special thing, even when she was younger. As she’s gotten older, she’s had more people to celebrate with. Going from her, her sister, and her parents, to the large family she’s created has been a gift in itself.

She was finishing up adding little toppings to the hot chocolate when you came into the kitchen, almost crashing through the doorway, panic evident on your face.

Pancy coo’ed, “What’s wrong dear?”

“Uh— mom I think you need to diffuse dad.”

“What happened?” She sounded more annoyed than afraid, knowing whatever it was that set her husband off could boil down to something as simple as Goten making a comment about his father. 

“He learned who Santa is,” You stood up, wringing your hands together nervously, and Bulma placed the tray of hot chocolate down, “And he is not exactly too happy about the idea of a strange man stalking his kids.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, before motioning for you to walk. The pair of you made your way into the living room, Panchy offering to finish the drinks for when the events were over. In the living room, Trunks and Goten looked more panicked than you had, trying to calm Vegeta down. 

“Vegeta— what is going on?” Your mother’s voice was loud and demanding, and Vegeta turned to her quickly.

“You mean to tell me you have been aware of a grown man stalking the earth’s children all year, and then deciding to play judge, jury, and executioner during the Christmas holiday?”

Oh, you hadn’t been kidding.

“Well,” When he puts it like that it does sound a bit creepy, “Didn’t you celebrate holidays on your planet?”

“We celebrated births, wars, conquers, and deaths. But we didn’t have our children being watched by some fat creep throughout the year!” He turned gold quickly, the blast of his energy knocking over the tree.

You watched it with a sad expression— at least you hadn’t placed any ornaments on it yet. Nothing was shattered or broken. 

“Vegeta,” Your mom sighed, “It’s not like how you’re thinking—”

“If he just watches children, tell me, why does (Y/N) get gifts? She’s an adult— you mean to tell me he watches her as well?”

You closed your eyes, burying your face into your hands to muffle your groan. Why hadn’t your mother told him about Santa years ago? This day would have been peaceful.

“She’s still young enough to get gifts from Santa.”

“So he still watches her, does he?”

Bulma cocked a hip, eyeing him with curiosity and annoyance, “I— yes?”

“She is a married woman,” He all but growled that out, still sore that his eldest had married Goku’s oldest, “And he lays his eyes on her in the privacy of her own home.”

“Okay, dad—”

“That is not what he does—”

“What is he talking about?” Trunks turned to Goten, watching as the energy of his mom and older sister shifted from annoyance to embarrassment.

Goten merely shrugged in response, “Your dad’s not going to go kill Santa, is he?”

“He’s not in the North Pole right now,” Trunks shook his head, arms crossed as he answered like this was the most obvious thing in the world, “He could be at any of the malls around the world visiting kids. He can’t waste time searching for him.”

“Oh, he visits malls now does he?” Vegeta turned his gaze to the two of them.

“Yeah, we went to see him last week,” Trunks answered, pointing to the mantle piece where your mom had printed out the picture of the two of you with Santa.

Your mom had insisted the pair of you wear matching red and white outfits, and though they were itchy, the trip to visit Santa had been fun, refreshing almost. However, with the way your father’s mind was rearing, seeing a photo of his children, one perched on Santa’s lap, the other leaning against his side, was enough to seal the deal: he had to kill Santa.

“I told him what I wanted for Christmas, he even knows our names!” Trunks looked so proud, Santa had in fact told him he’d been a good boy that year.

“Trunks!” You couldn’t help but hiss his name at him, and he looked confused as to why you were scolding him.

“Okay, Vegeta,” Your mom pinched the bridge of her nose, “Calm down.”

“I will not calm down,” He seethed, “This man holds too much power, and to hold it over our children? I will not allow such a thing.”

“Dad,” You sighed, “It’s a normal thing! Christmas is a widely celebrated holiday, Santa visits all those who celebrate it and—”

“So he’ll be visiting our home then, correct?”

“Yes, but—”

“Good,” Thankfully, he powered down, his energy decreasing, blonde fading the black, “I shall wait for him then.”

“Oh boy,” Your mother sighed.

“When he enters our home, which as I’ve learned is considered breaking and entering, I shall challenge him. Any man able to travel the entire planet in one night must contain an immense level of power.”

“Oh my,” You turned towards your mother, exasperated, “Mom!”

“Vegeta,” She pats you on the back, “I need to talk to you. In the kitchen.” Your father scoffed, arms crossing over his chest, but he moved to walk to the kitchen nonetheless, “You three— clean this up.”

“We didn’t make the mess,” Trunks whined, but Goten moved to prop up the tree and defeated, Trunks helped him.

Your parents left for the kitchen, hopefully, your mother would explain to him that Santa was in the face, not real, so there was no immortal man stalking the children of the world. You cringed a bit— it does sound a bit creepy when explained like that.

A knock echoed from the door, and a moment later Gohan was walking in, a large smile on his face. It faded when he saw the boys struggling with the tree and the stressed look on your face.

“What happened?” He stepped forward almost cautiously, moving to wrap his arms around you, “I thought you all were just tree decorating?”

“Dad learned who Santa was today,” Your voice was muffled from where you had buried your face in his shirt.

“Oh,” He nodded in understanding, “I assume he didn’t like the idea of him?”

“He’s gonna try and fight Santa when he comes to deliver our presents,” Trunks supplied from where he was in the air, trying to help Goten steady the tree once more.

“Oh?”

Goten looked over at his big brother, “Do you think Mr. Vegeta’s gonna try and kill Santa?”

“If he does I hope I’m still on the good list,” Trunks looked stressed, “I’m not the one trying to kill him.”

Gohan laughed, “Relax buddy, your dad’s not going to kill Santa.”

“Our dad really likes Santa,” Goten floated over to you, and though you had grown more than used to the group of Saiyans using their powers around you, having Goten or Trunks fly up to be eye level with you was always funny, “He didn’t know who Santa was when he came back from the dead! Mom had to tell him, and when he first met him dad was really excited!”

“Oh yeah?” You side-eyed your husband who snorted, “Yeah. Guess it makes sense that Vegeta didn’t know about Santa, but it was surprising with dad.”

From the kitchen, a very loud, “What?” echoed throughout the house, and you had a hunch that, if your dad didn’t like the idea of Santa, he liked the realization of being fooled even less.

“I think it would have been easier to let him fight one of the mall Santas,” You muttered to Gohan, watching as Goten and Trunks plugged the lights in, marveling at their own handy work.

“Don’t say that,” He looked amused despite the worry in his voice, “Can you imagine that poor worker?”

You laughed, it proved to make a funny sight. Though you knew the poor minimum wage worker wouldn’t stand a chance against your father. Family Christmas fighting the law doesn’t sound like a good way to end the year.