"No, Santa is real. He just wanted us to mind-control parents into thinking they bought the presents so that children would believe in Santa without evidence which is apparently a beautiful and touching example of true faith or something. --Please tell me you want to change that."

Sasha looks at the guy, and looks around the room, and looks back at the guy, and attempts to process this information, and then grabs a pillow off the couch and shoves his face into it and screams. 

Is that what's supposed to happen?

He's pretty sure this is not what's supposed to happen.

Once he finishes screaming he flops down onto the couch and holds the pillow like a weirdly shaped stuffed animal and says "I guess this might as well happen." 

...Lev can deal with one part of this. 

He brings Sasha a stuffed animal from the bedroom. 

He will accept the actual stuffed animal as a substitute for this pillow. 

"So what things.... are involved...... in being Santa." 

"Well, the Christmas spirit is set based on your beliefs about what Christmas should be. And all of Santa's elves are now your slaves and you can command us to do things? --If you really don't want to be Santa you can go back to what you were doing, you won't age and you'll be immortal unless you're killed, but otherwise your life will be the same and we can try to figure out what you'd want us to do without your actual input?"

'We are your slaves now, or you can go back to being a survival sex worker' is the kind of sentence that calls for Screaming Into Pillow Part 2: 2 Scream 2 Pillow. 

This is not actually any more reassuring the second time!

"...do you need. Help."

"....yeah. I do. Do you have. A name. — I'm Sasha." 

"I'm Lev."

"Hello Lev. I am against lying to children for no reason. I am also Jewish and don't celebrate Christmas and also I really do not want to go back to being a survival sex worker it was terrible. Do you see my problem." 

"...We could be Hanukkah elves spreading the Hanukkah spirit?"

"No you could not," and then he remembers all of the reasons he should not snap at this person and curls up around the stuffed rabbit. 

"...do you want a hug?"

No. Yes. Maybe. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe when it's been more than, like, an hour since someone forced him on his knees and put a knife to his throat. "No." 

"...okay. I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing at all."

"It's okay. Neither do I. — sorry about all the everything, I'm not this much of a mess usually." 

"...People are usually kind of a mess after they get raped. And also presumably after they murder people although I don't know that one for sure."

"Yeah. Usually. 

So what do I have to.... do, as part of being Santa, since apparently this is my life now." 

"Uh. Well. This is your house, it changed itself to be the sort of house you'd want to live in. We can just keep doing the same things we were doing for the last Santa? And then when you feel up to it you can-- change things. If you want. And give us some hints about how you're going to affect the Christmas spirit. Or, uh, Generic Winter Holiday spirit?"

"I have no idea how I'm going to affect the... generic winter holiday spirit. I should come up with a better name than that probably. Thank you." 

"We were Yule elves for thousands of years, we could be Yule elves again."

Nodnod. "My first association with Yuletide is the fic exchange but maybe that's not a bad thing." 

"...I have no idea what that is."