"Don't, uh. Don't think I'm not happy to meet you, though," she adds, and this she's more sure of. Even if it should have been both of him. "You're the part I was missing all those years."
She did miss them! "I missed you, too. I wanted to come home, and you...you were here. You're my sister." They gesture, trying to explain. "I just wanted to come home."
"I'll try to be a better sister," Arie murmurs. A few fresh tears are welling up, but it hardly matters anymore. It's not as if she hasn't obviously been crying much harder than this. She goes over and reaches to hug Mutt, less violently than last night but no less desperately.
It's comforting and galling, both at once. She knows she wasn't a good sister to the Mica she'd had. Knows she should have tried to stop him. But it also means something to this one that someone had even noticed him missing, and maybe that's something? "Thank you."
"Oh good, you're all up!" Mrs. Kluss smiles, suddenly in the hall. "Well, go on downstairs, it's Christmas morning!"
Arie practically jumps out of her skin, having been too lost in grief to notice Mom in the hall before she spoke. The idea of having Christmas under these circumstances seems strange and perverse, but... that's what's going to happen. In her hand, the pulsing of the jar accelerates for a moment, echoing her startlement. Strange that it's keeping time with her.
Arie pulls her hand out of Mutt's, not unkindly but in a "don't pull me down a flight of stairs, we'll both break our necks" sort of way. "I'm coming," she assures him. She slips the necklace on, dropping the jar behind the collar of her nightshirt, as she follows him. She's not leaving that thing lying around.
The necklace seems to hum nervously when Mutt speaks, a quick hummingbird wing thrum, then slows back to match her heartbeat, a little like a frightened animal curling up somewhere safe. Mr. Kluss is already downstairs, bringing breakfast into the family room with a broad smile.
Arie's first impulse is to say no, because of all the things that are horribly wrong, but... it is. This is exactly what Mom and Dad would be doing on any other year. And that's another thing that's horribly wrong! So it is and it isn't, but this... Nul... is one of the main reasons it isn't, and that's clearly not what he's asking about. "Yes," she says, shivering. "And I don't know why."
He nods. "What should we do?" Mutt is somewhere off to the side looking at the food, not paying attention to them anymore. That's fine. They'd say something weird and complicate things.
"Right now we eat breakfast. Then we usually go do the stockings. Just..." ...fuck, if Arie had thought it hurt spending holidays with a Mica who was wrong, having to explain to him how holidays even work is almost unbearable. "I'm sure they have one for you, God knows how, just take things out one at a time and be appreciative?"
"No, I meant -" He gestures around him. "About why they know Mutt and me. I know how Christmas works, I think. Mutt might not, though."
"Oh. That." Arie sighs, defeated. "I wouldn't begin to know. Although. Did you two open your... other presents yet?"
