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The rest of the day passed in something of a whirl for Warlock. Adam's mother welcomed them to the family with a quick peck on the cheek, Adam's older sister Sarah and her husband shook hands while their two small daughters (Warlock estimated they were about 7 and 5) swarmed Adam and dragged him off, demanding stories from their uncle. Sarah bounced off somewhere else, leaving Warlock standing marooned (again) with the luggage (again).
Sarah's husband shook his head. "This family..." he murmured, and the wryness in his smile said it all - a fond recognition of the chaos they'd both joined as outsiders. "You're sharing with Adam, right."
Warlock nodded.
"I'm Tom, in case you didn't catch it earlier. He/him" Tom scooped up half the luggage and steered Warlock to the correct room, without so much as a blink at their name and pronouns. Warlock watched the door close behind him, then sat down on the (only) bed and buried their face in their hands, taking deep breaths and trying not to let everything overwhelm them. They could do this. They would do this. For Adam, who wanted them here.
***
Warlock eventually found Adam and the girls in the lounge. Adam smiled from the sofa, and stretched out an arm. Warlock gratefully slid into the invited cuddle - and the girls pounced. Metaphorically.
"Do we call you our nercle?" The older girl, Felicity, smiled up at them, childish dimples flashing in her cheeks.
"'Nercle?" Warlock repeated warily.
"Yes, 'cause you're the partNER of our unCLE."
"Er." Warlock thought about it. They'd been worried that someone might force uncle or aunt on them, but here was a new option just being handed to them.
Felicity dimpled hopefully at them.
They fell for it. "Yes, ok. Nercle Warlock it is."
"Cool. Do you know any good stories?"
***
There were three old friends that Adam dragged them all over the village to meet, as they had, coincidentally, also returned to Tadfield for Christmas. There was Pepper ("She drags people and countries to the peace negotiation table," Adam explained cheerfully, "kicking and screaming all the way, sometimes."), Wensleydale ("Accountant for the Inland Revenue, makes sure big businesses pay their fair share of taxes and don't starve government for funds."), and finally Brian ("Sustainable farming and reclaiming polluted rivers."). Warlock nodded politely and made practised small talk with the first two, and managed to have a real conversation with Brian about soil types and what grew best where (there were certain overlaps between farming, and Warlock's job at a garden centre).
***
Christmas Eve was chaotic mess of bustle that reminded Warlock of the frantic preperations that their father's household used to make for the Christmas parties where Warlock was treated more as a trophy to be paraded about than as a living person, and of loud voices yelling across the house that made them flinch. This household was nothing like their father's, as evidenced by the tree covered in a wild mishmash of ornaments from the bought to the obviously child-made, with very few matching. The decorations in their father's house had always been fashionable, co-ordinated, and matching - more focused on appearance than heart, like the man himself. Adam's family was the reverse, all heart and enthusiasm, with little care for how it looked.
Despite that, Warlock's nerves were raw by the time darkness fell and they were seriously considering leaving the corner of the lounge they'd hid in and hiding in the bedroom where it might be quieter.
Tom found them there and offered another of those wry smiles, even as he shifted the younger girl, Toni, on his hip. "Come outside and help us watch for Santa."
"We have to be very quiet," Toni explained, "so we can listen for the sleigh bells."
Quiet and dark sounded wonderful to Warlock. Tom added softly as they headed out, "Toni's named for someone I knew at Uni. He didn't much like loud noises either. So here, we built an escape in."