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Once the family finally got home to McDuck Manor after saving Christmas from Scrooge, they all sat in the living room around the lit fire to warm up.
"Scrooge, my dear friend. I have one last thing to come clean about."
Santa said, gesturing to his assistant, who was warming up by the fire. His name was Kris, and when standing to his full height, was slightly taller than the average duck. He wore an orange jacket with a singular diagonal white stripe spanning across the entire torso and even wrapping around the sleeves. Above the white stripe and along the sleeve cuffs and the elastic along the bottom of the jacket were all the same darker orange shade, with the bottom portion of the jacket and sleeves being a lighter orange. The jacket had a long puffed collar, and a zipper along the center. The duck sported short brown hair, with the back being nearly buzzed short, and the front cut into angled bangs. It was clearly a haircut done at home.
He turned around at the sound of Santa's voice, his eyebrow raising in confusion before he sighed, standing up and standing next to Santa.
"What is it now, Santa? It better not be another fake injury or I'm reactivating the traps."
Santa laughed, letting out his signature 'ho-ho-ho' as Scrooge smirked, clearly joking.
"No, no, nothing like that, I promise. It's the reason I came to you this year in the first place. You see, Kris wanted to meet you."
"Me? Why would he want to see me?"
"Because... Well, there's no better way to say this-"
Kris piped up, "Because you're my dad. Well, my biological dad."
The whole McDuck family and gathered friend made surprised exclamations, and Donald choked on a candy cane he'd been eating, Della running over to slap his back. Once he could breathe again, Scrooge exclaimed, "What do you mean 'dad'? As far as I know, you can't just make children on a whim without magical means, and I haven't seen you in- How old are you, lad?"
Kris responded, "19 years old."
"I haven't seen you in 20! Not since the last time I caught you breaking into the mansion, and since then I've reinforced the traps twofold. And I know for sure you and I never... Not since those first few years..." Scrooge blushed. "But that was ages ago! How could this be possible?"
Santa sighed. "It's a bit of a long story, so I'll try to make it concise. A few days before Christmas - the year after I last saw you - my helpers had finished making presents and left to see their families, so I was left alone. Alone with my thoughts. Like I had been every year since you started seeing me as a foe. All I could think about was how much I missed you, but I knew you weren't ready to see me yet. One night, I wished upon a shooting star that I could just have a small piece of you with me so it would hurt less to be without you, and they granted my wish."
When I looked down, I saw an egg at my feet. I knew immediately what had happened, and I took it upon myself to raise our child. He hatched on Christmas Eve. I raised him to be a kind and smart young boy, telling him stories of you and I every Christmas when he helped me deliver presents. He made the holidays easier for my heart to bear. But this year, he asked me when he'd be able to meet his other father. The one I always said he reminded me of. And this year, I decided he was finally old enough."
Kris smiles nervously, fiddling with his cheek whiskers. "The fake injury was my idea. I didn't realize you'd try to sabotage Christmas with coal, but it was pretty fun to save Christmas together and get to meet your family."
Scrooge's beak was open wide in shock, and he took a minute to compose himself. "Well, as much as I would've liked to know sooner-" He cleared his throat pointedly at Santa, then continued, "I would love to welcome you into the family, lad."
Scrooge hugged his son, the rest of the ducks quickly joining in, surrounding Kris as he laughs, moving to try to hug all of them, and everyone gets squished together as Santa wraps his arms around them all in a giant polar bear hug. This was definitely Scrooge, Kris, and Santa's favorite Christmas ever.