#i would always ask my mom to make latkes and i’d get so happy when she did

[l-art-stuff-l]

started craving latkes all of a sudden but we don’t have any onions or sour cream or even apple sauce. i GUESS i could use onion powder instead of grated onion and on monday i could get some apple sauce from school but idk if we’ll even still have potatoes by then because we only have two left… fuck my stupid baka life

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: Hanukkah Thoughts

One

The past two years, I’ve lived in a house where the landlady banned candles. She also put up a Christmas tree every year in the living room. I didn’t really mind that the tree was there; it didn’t mean anything to me. I didn’t really think I minded not being able to light the menorah, either.

At the beginning of this month, I moved to a new place. I got a menorah and candles, and I lit the shamash and sang the prayers.

It felt like getting a piece of myself back.

Two

I’m using “Hanukkah” in this blog post. I could just as easily use “Chanukah” instead; I’d feel the same way about it.

They’re both wrong. That’s how I see it. Sometimes you’re just stuck with using the wrong word as a label so that you can communicate with people who can’t understand you. It will always be spelled correctly – in Hebrew – in my heart.

Three

Last year I told myself that every time someone at work told me “Merry Christmas” when it was Hanukkah, I would reply, “Happy Hanukkah!” I didn’t end up doing it every time, but I got braver about it the further into the week I got.

There were never any outright negative reactions, thank G-d. Mostly people seemed confused. They would do a double take as they walked away from me, as though wondering if they’d heard me correctly.

“Merry Christmas!” one woman said late in the week.

“Thanks, Happy Hanukkah!” I said.

“That’s right!” she said with a big grin and a little laugh. “And Kwanzaa!”

It was not Kwanzaa.

Four

I’ve never made latkes before, and in hindsight, it’s a little bit funny just how nervous I got about it.

I didn’t have an exact recipe to follow; my mom’s more of a trial-and-error cook than one with exact recipes. I’ve never deep fried anything in my life – I usually don’t eat fried things at all – and I don’t have a sense of smell to tell me if something’s burning. I hovered over the oven, equally afraid of flipping the pancakes too soon and too late and wondering if I could tell the difference. I hate wasting food. I hate being wrong. I preemptively hated creating latkes that tasted wrong.

My latkes were soft, but beautiful and sweet, and every bite I took made me want another.

For the second round of latkes I made, a couple nights later, I brought over a chair and let the latkes – and myself – sit for a while. They were even better than the first batch.

Five

This year, I decided to take a step up in courage, and make “Happy Hanukkah” my casual greeting for people at work during these eight days.

On the first day, a woman told me, “Merry Christmas,” and I automatically replied, “Happy Hanukkah.” She looked at me like she thought I was being snide with her. I wasn’t… not intentionally, at least.

Another woman got very excited when I told her, “Happy Hanukkah.”

“You said the thing that applies to you; I love it!” she said, as though it had never occurred to her before that someone might do that. She turned to her husband. “Did you know it was Hanukkah?”

I got one enthusiastic “Thank you!” from a man wearing a kippah, who told his children to say “Thank you” as well.

The most common reaction I’ve gotten this week by far is laughter. It’s never been malicious laughter, thankfully. It’s more of an “oh how silly” laughter, as they walked away. How silly of that strange young woman at Disney World to say, “Happy Hanukkah” instead of “Merry Christmas.”

How silly of me indeed.

Six

Each night, we use the shamash – the helper candle – to light the other candles. Each night, the shamash is used to light more candles than the night before.

The shamash is never lessened by this work. As it lights each candle, its light remains as bright as ever, and soon there is enough light for everyone, as together, the candles light the room around them.

I don’t think I need to spell out the metaphor, but I think we could all benefit from seeing ourselves as like the shamash.

Seven

I don’t see the point of saying “Happy Hanukkah” when it isn’t Hanukkah. I don’t see the point of saying “Merry Christmas” when it isn’t Christmas. It seems like the only reason to do that is to tell everyone that you think Xmas is the most important thing in the world this time of year.

I’m not interested in telling anyone that Hanukkah is the most important thing in the world. It’s important to me and my people. I don’t need it to be important to anyone else.

I’ll say Hanukkah when it’s Hanukkah, and I’ll say Christmas when it’s Christmas. For the rest of the month, I’ll stick to “Happy Holidays.”

Eight

Every year, someone points out that Hanukkah isn’t actually an important Jewish holiday. I’m guilty of this, too.

When we say this, though, we don’t really have anything against Hanukkah. We’re reacting to our frustration that Hanukkah is the only thing that Christians and culturally Christian atheists usually know about Judaism. As we react to their excitement about Hanukkah, we also react to their lack of interest in anything else in our culture.

My elementary school teachers asked my parents to come teach my class about Hanukkah. My parents replied that they would come if they could also teach about Shabbat and the High Holy Days, and other important things in Judaism. So, my parents never came to teach my class about Judaism, and I’ve known my whole life that this is the only part of my culture that the gentiles pretend to care about.

Hanukkah is Hebrew for “dedication.” When the Seleucid Empire banned the practice of Judaism, they invaded Jerusalem and desecrated the holy temple there. They claimed our temple for themselves, setting up idols to their own gods. After the war was won, the Maccabees had to rededicate the temple to our own religion.

Gentiles’ excitement about Hanukkah feels like they’ve claimed it for themselves. They’ve decided that it’s the “Jewish Christmas.” They have one character wear a Hanukkah sweater in their Christmas specials, they put Hanukkah decorations on one of the many Christmas trees they put up in public places, and they sing one Hanukkah song on their Christmas albums. They’ve even put a Jewish family in a Hallmark Christmas movie – and they act like they’ve done us a favor by “including” us in their Xmas cheer.

It’s no wonder that many Jews today feel the need to distance themselves from Hanukkah. It feels like it’s no longer ours.

We need to rededicate Hanukkah. We – the Jewish people – need to remember and identify what makes it special to us, separate from how it makes the gentiles feel. We need to, for just a moment, forget about the rest of the world and think about why we light these candles, why we say these prayers, why we tell these stories, why we eat this food, why we play these games.

We need to reclaim this part of ourselves, this part which is too often taken away from us. I believe this will make us happier than putting it down year after year, and that it will be more spiritually fulfilling than simply going with the flow of Xmas cheer.

[originalhybridloverfics]

I Never Thought I Would Get This Moment With You

Summary: Mia spends her first Christmas with her father and mother but she can't help but wish for her mother to be there.

A/N: Okay, so I am ignoring the fact that Crisis takes place before Christmas.

This fic was inspired by another fic 'So This is Christmas' written by, Jesileigh. If you had not read it, I highly recommend that you do!

Here's the link, https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921655.

Now on with this little one shot, I hope you like it. Merry Christmas, Happy Hannakuh or Happy Holidays whichever you prefer!

Mia woke up to the smell of fresh bacon, her stomach growled eagerly.

She tossed the covers off and made her way out into the open layout of her parent’s old home in Star City.

She saw her dad at the stove, making what looked to be a feast.

“Are you planning to feed a small army?” Mia took a seat on the counter where dishes were already waiting.

Toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns.

“I thought we could celebrate Christmas,” Oliver shot her a smile over his shoulder. “I know you probably celebrated Hannakah instead, but I just thought this was a nice way to spend the holiday as a family. If your mother was here, we could do a Chrismukkah."

Mia wished she could see her mom, she hated that everyone believes it was better to stay away. Time-traveling and all that, but she didn’t care. This would be her first Christmas without her mom, and she didn’t think that was something to celebrate.

Oliver turned off the stove at her silence and approached her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not feeling very festive if you want to celebrate go on right ahead, but I would rather be left out.” Mia snatched a piece of bacon and popped it into her mouth.

“You and your mom didn’t celebrate?” Oliver questioned uncertainly.

“It’s not that.” Mia shook her head.

“I found the Christmas tree and the box of decelerations.” William emerged from the back room, carrying a large box, looking like he was on the verge of dropping it.

“Just set it down.” Oliver directed, his focus not leaving his little girl. “Then what is it?”

“Just drop it.” Mia snatched up a piece of french toast and walked off.

Oliver frowned, looking after her.

“Digg and Connor will be here in twenty,” William said, taking a seat.

Oliver nodded distractedly.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Mia stared at the photo she had swiped from her father’s box of things, staring at the picture of her parents. They looked so happy.

Mia’s heart ached, knowing her mother would love to be here celebrating the holidays with them as a family.

“Why are you hiding out in here?”

Mia looked up to see Connor leaning in the open doorway.

“Just not really into the holiday.”

“You don’t like Christmas? How can you not like Christmas?” Connor stepped further into the room.

“I never said anything like that."

“Well, you’re hiding out in her instead of helping your family decorate your home.”

“This isn’t my home.” Mia placed the pictured on the bedside table. “My home is alone raising me in the middle of nowhere in a cabin.”

“Felicity.” Connor realized, watching as the emotion flickered in her eyes before she quickly covered it. “This is about your mom.”

“She always said home wasn’t a place or a single destination. It was family. It was the people in your life. The feeling of love surrounding you. That’s home.”

“Mom always was smart.”

Felicity’s eyes shot to the door again to see William just on the threshold. “It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“I wasn’t trying to.” William defended. “Dad has the table set for everyone, C’mon. I understand missing mom, but are you going to waste the chance to spend your first Christmas with dad?”

Mia looked back at the picture, knowing her mother wouldn’t want her to miss the chance to spend the holiday with her father because she was brooding about her not being there.

Silently she got up and left the room.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

It was strange for Mia, being around others for the holiday when it had only been her mom and her for the last 20 years.

After breakfast, Connor and Digg left, and she and William helped their father decorate their home, and make latkes for lunch.

They settled on the couch and watched Christmas movies. Mia wasn’t surprised when the first movie her father put on was Die Hard. Her mother always told her that it was his favorite Christmas movie even though it wasn’t technically a Christmas movie.

“Do you want to help me with dinner? I’m fixing chicken parmigiana.” Oliver asked Mia and William when the credits rolled.

“I’m no help in the kitchen.” William shook his head.

“I’m even worse. My cooking is no better than mom’s.”

Mia watched as her father’s face scrunched up before replying. “All the more reason to teach you. C’mon, help me in the kitchen.”

“Don’t burn down the house.” William snickered at Mia. “If you’re as bad as mom is at cooking, it’s a strong possibility.”

Mia shot him a glare as she followed her father to the kitchen, resisting the urge to flip her brother off.

William snickered behind their backs.

Cooking with her father was so different from cooking with her mother. She didn’t have to worry about the smoke detector going off.  It was nice to see her father in his element.

Was this the kind of husband he was before he left them?

The husband who cooked while his wife drank wine and work on her laptop? The kind that would have her mom taste whatever new recipe he was trying?

She could almost picture what it would have been like to grow up with her parents and William.

It was a life Mia was reluctant to admit she wished she could have had cause there was no hope she was ever going to have something like that.

Mia pushed thoughts of her mother to the back of her mind, just thinking about her made the ache in her chest grow.

She followed her father’s instruction to the best of her ability. When they were done, she was just glad he was there. Otherwise, she was sure she would have probably burnt the apartment down.

Oliver smiled as he watched his children decorate the tree together. His heart ached, wishing Felicity was there with them.

He wanted to call her, needed to hear her voice, he was tempted, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

If he heard her voice, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from going home.

“For someone who doesn’t like Christmas, you’re not too bad with decorating the tree,” Willam commented.

Mia snorted. “It’s not possible to be bad at decorating a tree. All you have to do is hang ornaments. There’s nothing special about that.”

“Wow, you must have been a real joy to be around at Christmas time,” William snickered.

Mia glared at him. “It was a very happy time, we sang Christmas carols and set out cookies and milk for Santa.”

William made a face at her sarcasm.

“Speaking of cookies,” Oliver injected. “Would you like to help me make some?”

Mia looked at him incredulously. “You do love tempting fate with a Smoak girl in the kitchen, don't you?”

Oliver laughed. “You can just do what your mother always did.”

“Sit on the counter and watch you cook?”

Oliver looked at her, the corner of his mouth lifting. “She told you about that?”

“Yes. It was better for mom to watch than to cook.” Mia’s lips pulled up into a small smile, thinking of her mother. “peaking as someone who actually seen her work in the kitchen that was the best option for mom. She couldn’t microwave without burning something.”

Oliver laughed. “Sounds like your mother.”

Oliver moved to the kitchen, and Mia followed him, leaving William to continue decorating the tree.

Oliver got out the ingredients and motion Mia to come next to him and started showing her how to mix the batter together and stir it.

“Here, why don’t you stir the batter on your own.” Oliver slid the bowl over to her.

Mia took it, and the first thing she did after stirring the batter was to scoop out a piece, sneaking a taste.

Oliver shook his head.

“What?” Mia asked.

“Your mom did the same thing.”

Mia smiled faintly as Oliver scooped out the proper amount of cookie batter onto the cookie sheet and then put it in the oven.

“When we're done with the chocolate chip cookies, we can do gingerbread cookies, and you can help me apply the icing. Your mom loved decorating cookies with icing. It reminded her of when she and William baked for one of his science classes.”

Mia face shuttered, the ache in her chest for her mom becoming too much. “I need some air.”

Mia went out to the balcony. The night air was cold, but she didn’t really care as she looked out at the city lights.

“Mia, is everything okay?” Oliver approached her cautiously.

“Every year for as far as back as I can remember mom and I celebrated Christmas, I didn’t understand it at first. We had Hanukkah. When I was little, I didn’t mind it, but as I got older, I started to feel angry. Mom went all out for Christmas. I thought it was because she loved the holiday, but it was for you.”

“For me?” Oliver’s heart thudded in his chest.

“She always told me how much you loved Christmas. How you loved throwing Christmas parties. Watching Christmas movies, making Christmas treats, and decorating the tree.” Mia’s smile was anything but happy.

“And that made you angry?”

“I was angry that mom held onto you so tightly. There was always this air of sadness that surrounded her. Still, I don’t know there was just something about the way she clung to everything that you love about Christmas that amplified it. Don’t get me wrong I know she was happy with me, but there was something still missing, and that was you. And William.” Mia looked away from him, trying to hide the way tears gathered in her eyes. “She wanted to celebrate Christmas and do all the things you would have done with us if you had the chance to be there. I never thought I get this moment with you. It’s nice to finally experience Christmas with you, but I wish mom was here. I wish the four of us could spend the holiday together as a family.”

“You have no idea how much I want that too. Why don’t this year we do something that your mom would've loved to do.”

“I’d like that,” Mia said softly.

“C’mon, back inside. It’s cold out here, and I don’t want you to catch a cold.” Oliver murmured, placing his hand on her back and ushering her inside.

“Do we have any mint chip?” Mia wondered. “I’m feeling like some mint chip.”

“Yes, and how about some red wine?” Oliver asked. “For your mom?”

Mia smiled slowly.

Oliver smiled back at her. It was heartbreaking to know how much Felicity missed him, how much his absence affected his family. And how much Felicity tried to keep a connection between him and Mia. It just made Oliver love her that much more, the ache in chest intensifying.

Being with Mia and William for the holidays helped, but he wished his wife could be there. He wished they could have just one more moment together.

One last chance to thank her for the love and life she gave him.

Thank him for the happiness she brought to his life.  

Thank her for being his home.

A/N: Feed the writer's soul by leaving feedback!

[heart-eyes-kippen]

Prompt (since you asked): TJ studying up on Hanukkah so he can celebrate with Cyrus.

Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it!!

~

Disclaimer: I don’t practise Judaism, so if there are inaccurate details please feel free to message me so I can alter them!

~

“Hey, Teej!”

TJ recognised the voice immediately, and he turned away from his friends with a bright smile.

“Underdog! What’s up?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

He gave his friends a meaningful look,  before moving forward to fall in step with Cyrus.

“Soo…Hanukkah is starting this Sunday.”

“Oh! Nice.”

TJ could see the other boy blushing now, and he couldn’t help a playful smile. “What is it?”

“Well…my dad and my step-mom were kind of wondering if you wanted to come celebrate the first day with us? You don’t have to of course, but-“

“I’d love to! What time should I come over?”

Cyrus looked pleasantly surprised at this, and he gave the boy a bright smile. “Great! Sunset is at around 6:30 on Sunday, so maybe 6 o’clock?”

“I’m there.”

TJ was only struck with the realisation of what he had agreed to once the other boy had headed off to his next class.

It was Friday. He was going to Cyrus’ place on Sunday to celebrate the first day of Hanukkah with his family. He didn’t know anything about the traditions associated with Hanukkah.

His brain immediately switched into panic mode, and he spent a solid few moments standing completely frozen, desperately trying to remember anything he could about Hanukkah. His mind came up blank, and he let out a panicked gasp.

He had to get studying.

Lunchtime found TJ in the library, borrowing a handful of books about Judaism and poring over them to find out as much as he could the history of Hanukkah.

Much to his dismay, as he was leaving the library with his arms full of books, he bumped right into Cyrus.

“Hey - I finally found you! I’ve been looking all over for…why on earth do you have so many books?”

TJ’s face paled slightly. “Uh…” he trailed off, attempting to casually conceal the covers. “No reason?”

Cyrus raised a playful eyebrow at him. “No reason, huh?”

“Yup. I just like books.”

“You’re holding like 6 of them right now.”

“I really like books.”

The shorter boy stepped forward with an innocent smile, before quickly taking one of the books from the pile and scanning the cover.

All TJ could do was stand there, blushing madly.

“Aw, TJ - you know you could’ve just asked me if you wanted to know about Hanukkah, right?”

An embarrassed smile tugged at his lips. “I didn’t wanna seem clueless,” he explained, bending down to stuff some of the books in his bag. “And I was scared I’d annoy you.”

Cyrus’ teasing smile melted into something softer. “You? Annoying me? Never.” he said, handing back the book he had taken.

They beamed at each other for a moment, before the TJ slung his bag over his shoulder with a pointed cough. “I’m still reading all of them, by the way. I really want your dad and your step-mom to like me.”

TJ heart skipped a beat when he realised how boyfriend-y that had sounded, and he quickly added “Because we’re friends!” in an attempt to cover himself.

Cyrus’ smile slipped at that, and he looked away with a small sigh. “Yeah. Friends.”

He decided to ignore that, because if he even began to think about what that could’ve meant, he’d only raise his hopes far too high.

“So…ice cream tonight?” he asked hesitantly.

“Ice cream tonight,” Cyrus confirmed, trying his hardest to flash a genuine smile.

~

TJ generally wasn’t an overly anxious person,  but the nerves he felt walking up to Cyrus’ door were ridiculous. He was very close to either throwing up or running away, and the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach really weren’t doing him any favours.

He had spent a majority of his Saturday poring over the books he had borrowed, along with a few websites, until he had a fairly clear understanding of why Hanukkah was celebrated and how it was celebrated.

That wasn’t all he had to worry about though. He had always been terrified that Cyrus’ parents thought of him as a bad influence, particularly after the gun incident, and he was eager to leave a good impression.

He nervously straightened his shirt - Cyrus had insisted he just wear casual clothing - and reached for the doorbell. His hands hovered over it for a few moments, but before he could press it the door was flung open.

“Hey! You made it!”  

“Yeah,” he breathed out, smiling hesitantly as he was ushered inside.

His breath caught in his throat when Cyrus’ dad appeared at the kitchen doorway, smiling wide.

“So you must be TJ?” he questioned, holding out a hand.

TJ smiled nervously and took it. “Yeah! That’s me.”

Cyrus’ step-mom appeared behind him, and she gave the short boy a playful smile. “Cyrus talks about you a lot,” she explained, stepping forward.

TJ could feel his face burning at that, but he grinned nonetheless and gave him a teasing nudge. “Oh, really?”

Cyrus shrugged, but the embarrassed smile on his lips gave him away.

TJ held out a hand for Cyrus’ step-mom, but she ignored it completely and pulled him into a tight hug. He couldn’t help but grin; it was a very Cyrus thing to do, and he found himself feeling comforted by that fact.

“You can call me Sharon,” the woman said as she pulled away. TJ nodded and chuckled slightly when he noticed the playful glare Cyrus was directing at Sharon.

He paused for a moment, before suddenly remembering the cookbook he had bought them. “Oh! Um- this is uh, for you guys,” he stammered, holding out the book.

Sharon’s eyes lit up as she took it, and Cyrus snorted. “She has a collection of Jewish cookbooks, it’s getting out of hand,” he murmured.

“Thanks, TJ.”

He smiled nervously. “It was nothing.”

~

They all headed into the living room from there, and TJ made sure to compliment them on all of their decorations. The living room in particular was adorned with varying blues and whites, as well as symbols such as the star of David. It was impressive, to say the least.

“The sun is setting soon,” Cyrus told Sharon, peering outside through the blinds.

TJ saw a candle with 9 branches sitting on the table; something he recognised as a hanukiah. It reminded him of something, and he turned to Cyrus in panic.

“I can’t understand Hebrew. Is that okay?”

The boy gave him a fond smile. “TJ, it’s fine. You don’t have to understand it.”

“But I wanna be respectful,” he argued.

“You are being respectful…But I think I might have a version that’s translated to English if you want it?”

TJ sighed in relief. “Yes - that’d be great.”

While Cyrus rushed to his room to grab the papers, Sharon took the opportunity to speak to TJ.

“He likes you a lot, you know?”

He tried to will down a blush at that - she had obviously meant it in a friendly way after all.

“I like him too,” he told her, smiling fondly, “he’s really great to be around.”

“He’s a great kid…and I think you’re good for him. He seems more confident now with you around. Much more willing to try things out.”

TJ froze in disbelief for a moment, before a wide, genuine smile spread across his face.

She thought he was good for Cyrus! She didn’t see him as a bad influence!

“He needs a little push sometimes, but he’s really brave. Braver than a lot of people I know.”

They were both smiling widely when Cyrus returned, who shot them a bewildered look. “Sharon, what have you been telling TJ? Those smiles look unnatural.”

TJ laughed, placing a casual hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s nothing,” he assured him.

Cyrus gave him a sceptical look, but it faded into a small smile after a moment or two.

About 15 minutes later, the sun had officially set and TJ was holding nervously onto the paper Cyrus had given him. He knew there wasn’t much he had to do, but he was still completely terrified to screwing up somehow. He could feel his shoulder brushing against Cyrus’ however, and that managed to soothe him ever so slightly.

Cyrus’ dad began by lighting the middle candle - the shamash if TJ could remember correctly - and then the blessings were recited. He read along in his head as best as he could, then answered “Amen” when it was done.

The candle to the very right was then lit using the shamash, and placed on the windowsill for passers-by to see.

They all sat down at the table, remaining close to the hanukiah, and TJ hesitantly took the opportunity to ask Cyrus questions about Judaism based on the things he had read. The boy was more than happy to answer them, and the lovesick smile never left his face as did so.

(He knew Sharon and his dad would likely notice this, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.)

About half an hour later, Sharon and Cyrus’ dad announced that they were retreating to the kitchen to make latkes.As soon as they were out of earshot, TJ turned to Cyrus with a worried frown.

“I haven’t done anything wrong so far, have I?”

“You haven’t,” the boy assured him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “trust me.”

He nodded at that and tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies in his stomach as Cyrus gave him a soft smile.

~

Dinner was relatively uneventful (The latkes were amazing, and he made sure to mention this a few times) until Sharon asked a question that had Cyrus nearly spitting out his water.

“So, TJ.”

The athlete looked up with a smile.

“Do you have a girlfriend right now?”

He froze for a moment, before slowly lowering his fork with wide eyes. He heard Cyrus choke, and he couldn’t help but think he would’ve done the exact same thing if he had been drinking water at that moment.

He cleared his throat. “Uh…no.”

“You don’t like anyone?”

Cyrus was looking between them now, his eyes wide with worry and - curiosity?

“Uh…well…” he trailed off, searching for the right words. “I do but um…I don’t see it going anywhere.”

“Oh. Well, have you tried asking them?”

His stomach flipped at the mere thought of telling Cyrus about his feelings. That idea seemed laughable at best.

“No,” he answered truthfully.

Cyrus quickly interrupted then, shooting TJ an apologetic glance.

“You guys know that TJ won his final basketball game a few days ago, right?”

It worked; the focus shifted to his basketball team and he had never been so grateful for a topic change in his life.

For dessert, they had powdered sugar doughnuts (which Cyrus informed him were called ‘sufganiyot’) and to his relief, the conversation didn’t stray to TJ’s love life again.

~

After dessert, they all gathered in the living to play Dreidel, a game that he had only briefly read about online. As they sat down, Cyrus excitedly (and very adorably) informed him that chocolate coins were involved.

Cyrus’ dad placed a spinning top on the table.

“Have you heard of this before, TJ?”

“I’ve read a little bit about it, but…not a whole lot.”

“That’s fine! Cyrus, would you mind explaining while I go get the gelt?”

The boy smiled and nodded eagerly, grabbing the spinning top and showing it to TJ.

“So basically - we all get an equal amount of tokens - chocolate coins in our case - and the aim is to end up with all of the chocolate coins. Before each spin, everyone has to put a token in the middle to create the pot, and then we all take turns spinning.”

TJ watched him, and tried his hardest to concentrate on the explanation as Cyrus showed him the four sides of the spinning top, which all had Hebrew letters that meant varying things, like ‘put a token in the pot’, ‘take all the tokens from the pot’ or ‘do nothing.’

The boy’s eyes were sparkling, and the smile on his face was blinding as he spoke.

TJ couldn’t help but think that it was unfair for one boy to be so adorable, but he immediately scolded himself for not paying attention and tuned into the boy’s explanation again.

“So. That’s it!”

He blinked in surprise. “Cool! That sounds great.”

Cyrus’ dad returned with the chocolate coins - or ‘gelt’ - and gave TJ a friendly smile.

“Did he explain it well?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Great! Sharon, are we okay to start?”

“More than okay.”

As they played, Cyrus shuffled closer to TJ so he could inform him of which symbol meant what. When he was eventually able to remember them, Cyrus didn’t move away, and their shoulders would consistently brush when one of them moved. TJ tried not to focus on it too much, but the traitorous butterflies in stomach fluttered around nonetheless.

Cyrus ended up winning, which seemed to be a fairly common occurrence if the amused smile on Sharon’s face was anything to go by.

“You have a lot of luck,” she remarked.

“I have a lot of skill,” Cyrus corrected proudly, sending them both a smug grin.

TJ laughed softly at this and patted the boy on the back.

They played one more round after that and Sharon won this time (much to Cyrus’ dismay.)

TJ looked up at the clock on the wall, before smiling apologetically. “My mum is picking me up soon,” he said.

Cyrus’ dad smiled. “No problem - do you have all your things?”

“I think so…oh wait, actually - my phone is in Cyrus’ room.”

Cyrus nodded. “I’ll take him up.”

They headed upstairs and into Cyrus’ room, where TJ collected his phone and turned to the boy with a hesitant smile.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he said.

Cyrus stepped toward, smiling brightly. “Thanks for coming.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds, and TJ swore his heart was going to burst with how fast it was beating. He used to find Cyrus’ effect on him somewhat terrifying, but by now it had become normal to feel giddy when the boy so much as looked at him.

Sharon called for them then, and he instantly snapped out his momentary daze.

They hurried downstairs, where he thanked Sharon and Cyrus’ dad (who insisted TJ call him ‘David’ rather than ‘Mr.Goodman’) profusely for inviting him to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah with them. He was more than pleased when they told him that Cyrus had a ‘good taste’ in friends, and seeing the blush that appeared on Cyrus’ face was a bonus.

~

It was dark and strangely quiet outside as TJ stood in the driveway, facing Cyrus. Neither of them spoke for what felt like ages before he smiled softly and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Bye, Cyrus.”

He began to walk away, but Cyrus gently grabbed his arm.

“TJ, wait.”

TJ turned back around, giving the boy a questioning look. Cyrus flashed him an embarrassed smile, before leaning in a pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

With that, he ran back inside and TJ was left standing there, blushing madly as he slowly raised a hand to his cheek in disbelief.

Grinning giddily, he turned and began walking (or rather - skipping) over to his mom’s car.

“What are you so happy about?” she teased, raising a playful eyebrow at him.

He shrugged nonchalantly but was still unable to wipe the smile off his face. “It’s nothing.”

He couldn’t help but giggle to himself at that; after all, getting kissed on the cheek by Cyrus Goodman was the polar opposite of ‘nothing.’

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 36)

Description: It’s December for the Catalysts and the supers. Time to celebrate!

Tagging: @mysteli @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @endlesshero1122 @whatmcsaid @feartheendlesssummer @tigerbryn11

Notes: This chapter is dedicated to Robin Metz (1942-2018). Robin was a professor of mine in college, as well as my academic advisor. He was the head of the writing department, and my craft would not be what it is today without him. He will be missed

On a happier note, I cannot believe I managed to get this chapter out in time for Christmas. But here it is. Happy Holidays, Everyone!

Chapter Thirty-Six

Lights in the Darkness

Tahira

A high-pitched electronic ding accompanies a message flashing the top of my vision as my mask alerts me that Caleb has sent a text. Hopefully containing the audio files from his interview. I touch down at the church, and dismiss the alert as I walk her to the clergy house. She thanks me and I give her a hug goodbye, staying guard until she unlocks the door and gets inside. I take flight again, heading towards Grayson's apartment.

I wasn't lying when I told Caleb that something came up. But I definitely implied it was more...dire than it actually is. This isn't something that's important to the fate of the world, or even the fate of Northbridge. But it is important to Grayson. And that makes it important to me.

I stashed a change of clothes at a library a few blocks away. Not inside the actual library, of course, as that would be way too conspicuous. But the library is designed with an underground parking garage beneath, and there is a place at the bottom of a grassy hill where several oaks and the corner of the large brick wall that surrounds the library on three sides form an ideal changing spot for the superhero on the go who needs to conceal her identity. It's not easily accessible to anyone without the ability to fly and it doesn't face any windows, so ordinary citizens don't usually pay any attention to it. I touch down and find the bag of clothes and winter outerwear I left there this morning. I change in a hurry. December air is bitey in this part of the country, even for a superhero. I stuff my supersuit in the backpack, slip it onto my back, and check that the coast is clear before clearing the wall and casually rejoining the civilian population.

Grayson

“Am I late?”

Tahira stands at the front door of my apartment building, shivering and huddled against the bitter cold. It's started to snow, and the flakes coat her dark hair like a lace veil. I smile and draw her into my arms, leading her inside.

“You're right on time. I've got cider waiting for us.”

Upstairs, I help her peel off her wet outerwear and press a warm mug of cider into her hands. She savors the warmth as she brings the mug to her face to breathe in the scent.

“Mmm. Perfect.” She blows gently across the mug, stirring the amber surface, and then takes a careful sip. “Yup. Perfect.”

“Good. At least that's a hit. I also tried my hand at latkes, but I don't know if I got it right.”

She grins a little. “How badly can you mess up a potato pancake?”

I grimace. “...Worse than you might think. Especially if you haven't even eaten one in years, let alone ever made them solo...”

I trail off, feeling a pall start to creep over me. I turn toward the stove, where the latkes are still sitting in the rapidly cooling oil coating the cast iron skillet. For some reason, my instinct is to turn away from Tahira when I can't keep my expression from crumbling as tears spring to my eyes. They don't fall and I don't choke on the lump in my throat, but it isn't as if Tahira can't guess what's going through my mind. I hear the sound of ceramic gently meeting formica as she sets her mug on the table, and then her strong arm encircles my waist. I let my arm drop over her shoulder. For a moment, she says nothing. Then, she leans over the skillet and breathes deeply.

“They smell pretty good.”

“I don't know why I'm doing this,” I murmur. “...I haven't even done Hanukkah in years...”

She rubs my back patiently. I said the same thing last night. I think she's realizing she's going to get eight nights of me wondering why I'm celebrating a holiday I haven't celebrated since the death of my grandmother. Dad hasn't celebrated or observed anything since Mom died, but for awhile, Grandma kept it all going.

“...Do you want this?” she asks me. “Do you want to light the candles and sing the prayers and eat latkes? I mean, it's kinda what I was expecting to do, but if you just want to talk or fool around or watch a movie, I'm game for anything.”

“...I do want this...” I confess softly. “I just...I don't know why I should do it...”

I feel her hand on my cheek as she turns my face toward hers. “Because you want to do it, Grayson. It really doesn't matter why you want to.” She kisses me gently. “Nothing and no one will be damaged if you do.”

“...And if I don't?”

“Nothing and no one will be damaged by that, either. It's all up to you. But for the record...I think you should.”

“...All right. Let's do this.”

Out in the living room, I dim the lights. The menorah sits on the credenza, flanked by sentimental knick-knacks and framed photographs. It belonged to my grandmother, who left it to me in her will. It's been a few years since I drew it out. I would not say that I have lost my faith since she died. I don't believe I have built up walls or neglected my spirituality. Charity, empathy, and kindness are still at the core of what I believe in. But I might concede that I've lost touch with my culture. It's hard when the only family I have left has all but abandoned it. But I'm starting to realize how much I want it back. I want to reconnect with my roots. Hanukkah is a decent place to start. Perhaps the only support I have is my secular humanist girlfriend, but I'm grateful for her. I am grateful for her encouraging me to perform the rituals that remind me of times before everything in my life outside of her was falling apart.

I draw her close to my side as I light the candles and sing the prayers. What washes over me is not quite calm. But when I finish the last note, and Tahira asks me if I feel better, I can honestly answer that I do. She smiles and kisses me.

“Good.”

“Thank you for doing this with me, Tahira.”

“Of course.” She cups my cheek, stroking it gently. “At the darkest, coldest time of the year, everyone should have something to celebrate, whether it's a holiday or something else.”

“That is a big part of what Hanukkah is all about,” I muse. “Light enduring through darkness, even when the odds were against it...”

She winds her arms around my neck and her dark eyes meet mine. She smiles, and there's a softness and affection in her gaze that brings a lump to my throat. She looks at me not just with love, but...with admiration. The Hero of Northbridge is looking at me with admiration.

“Just like you,” she says. “Even after everything you've been through, you're still standing strong.”

“After everything I've been through?” I chuckle mirthlessly. “What about you?”

“To be fair, I think we've gone through most of the last half-a-year together.”

“Except I didn't realize it for awhile.”

She winces a little. “...I thought I would be protecting you by not telling you who I was. But I'm  glad to have you in the club now. ...And since my arch nemesis happens to be your father...”

I wrap my arms around her, drawing her against me. I'm not angry at her for bringing it up, but I'd really rather not think about that right now. I'd prefer to think about how much I appreciate her, not how angry I am with my father for hurting her, or how betrayed he has made me feel.

“Personally, I think the biggest advantage to the current arrangement is that you don't have to worry about disappointing me if you're late for a date or something. I'll just assume you were saving the city.”

She laughs. “How much do you want to bet that the first time I'm late for a date, it'll just be because I took a nap and forgot to set an alarm?”

“Hmmm...twenty bucks.” I peck her mouth with mine. “But since you're here now, and I have a gift for you...”

Her dark eyes meet mine. “Let's focus on the moment.”

Jake

Believe it or not, I used to love Christmas. Even though I was always fiesty and had a hard time making friends because of it, I wasn't always the bitter loner the Catalysts first knew me as. And, yeah, I'll admit it, I was a sucker for the holiday season schmaltz, right up until the year I watched my best friend blow up above me. After that, the days bled into each other until I had passed three years and three Christmas seasons without giving a crap. Then, of course, I met the love of my life, but we kinda literally skipped Christmas when we jumped forward six months with one of our number missing. And then I lost the love of my life. And spent five years without her. For those five years, I sometimes tried to celebrate for the sake of my family—both my blood relatives and the Catalysts—and once or twice if I had a partner at the time, I bought a card or a gift. But my heart was never really in it.

This year is different. This year I have everything in the world. My best friend. My family. My wife. Our unborn daughter. This year, I actually want to celebrate. The moment Halloween was over and I started to see fluffy red hats and fir trees draped in tinsel, I started to feel that old excitement again. And since the first of December, it's been underneath every moment of anxiety, flipping me from mind-numbing panic to eager anticipation.

On Saturday morning, I wake to find that Alodia is already up, standing in front of the full length mirror on our closet. Her hair is wet from the shower, and she's wearing a bathrobe, but from where I am, I can see that she's still naked underneath. She is holding the robe open, studying herself, her expanding belly, her swelling breasts. I roll over onto my back, grinning at her.

“Mmm-mmm. What a sight to wake up to.”

Alodia closes her robe, rolling her eyes, but I can see a smile playing around her mouth.

“You still think so? That's good to hear. Honestly, I feel more hideous every day.”

“You could never be hideous.” I push back the covers and get out of bed, moving to wrap my arms around her from behind and nuzzle her neck. She smells fresh and clean, like laundry right out of the dryer. Somewhat different from her usual floral-scented body washes and shampoos, but she's been using those less often since she's been pregnant. The stronger scents are harder to tolerate when her hormones have dialed her sense of smell up to eleven.

Alodia leans into my embrace, sighing as she strokes her belly. “Four more months. It's probably time to start preparing the nursery. Do you have any thoughts on that?”

I let my chin rest on her shoulder, swaying gently with her. “Hmmm, I don't know. Honestly, I kinda figured I'd let your nesting instinct guide us there.”

She snorts, reaching up to ruffle my hair. “Well, as long as you realize you're giving me full creative control. I don't want to do a traditional pink ballerina sort of room.”

“Really? I thought you loved your baby ballerinas.”

“I do. But there's no certainty that River is going to like ballerinas. For all we know, I'm growing a little karate champion. I'd rather do something more...gender-neutral.”

“No guarantee she'll like gender-neutral teddy bears or clowns or what have you, either. And as a baby, she'll probably like anything as long as she learns to associate it with calm and quiet and feeling safe. Still, I get your point.”

“I think I still want a theme. I sort of like the idea of a rainforest theme.”

I hesitate a moment before venturing, “Do you mean like your suite at The Celestial?”

She leans back in my arms, covering my hands with hers. “The rainforest is such a big part of our story together,” she murmurs, almost sounding apologetic. “It's where we met...where we fell in love...where we once thought we would build our little house and live together forever...where we separated and where we were reunited...”

I press my lips to her cheek. “It is a big part of our story,” I concede.

She exhales, a steadying sigh. “Besides that, I think all the greens and blues and browns and leafy patterns and such will be soothing.”

“It sounds very pretty. But you know, there is something more immediate that we should be thinking about.”

“Oh? What's that?”

I turn her gently in my arms so that we're face-to-face. “Christmas. Our first Christmas together.  It feels like a pretty big milestone to me.”

“I suppose it is.”

I feel my brow knitting at what strikes me as a rather lukewarm response. “Are you...not enthusiastic about Christmas?”

“What? No, no, no, I like Christmas as much as anyone else. I have some pretty wonderful memories of Christmas. It's just...times like this make it a little difficult to forget that those memories are only of one timeline. And in another sense...this is my very first Christmas ever.” Her expression clouds for a moment. She lowers her gaze, but not before I see the sorrow in her eyes. “...And when that feeling fades...I remember that not all my Christmas memories in this timeline are happy ones. ...It was over Christmas break freshman year that Diego came out to his family...”

“...Ahh.” I wince.

“...But...at the same time, he and I made some wonderful Christmas memories on our own after that. On Christmas Eve, we used to pull out the sofa bed and spend the whole night watching Christmas specials, drinking eggnog, eating treats... We'd go out onto the deck at midnight to light sparklers and exchange gifts like we used to do with his family, and then we'd come back inside and go back to watching Christmas specials until we fell asleep. We'd sleep in until noon on Christmas day, and even though Aunt Molly and Uncle Rob were usually already getting ready for another fancy Christmas party, they would have left a huge platter of French toast and bacon warming in the oven for us, plus an obscenely large pile of characteristically extravagent Christmas presents for each of us...”

“Diego, too?”

“Yeah.” She is quiet for a moment. “...He was always part of the family to them. ...Once it became clear how important he was to me. ...And when his own family turned their backs on him...”

“Decent of them,” I grudgingly admit.

“...They weren't great parents. But they tried. They did their best.” Her eyes are starting to sparkle. As her mouth twists, she presses her face into my shoulder. “...Stupid hormones.”

I can't help chuckling. “My poor pregnant princess. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything to do with Christmas. But I do want to celebrate. I've got everything to celebrate this year, and I think we all deserve to have a real nice holiday.”

“That sounds exactly like what we all deserve.”

Dax

“I don't know, Dax. Is it really the only way?”

In what used to be Silas Prescott's office, Grayson sits on the edge of a leather easy chair, absently scratching with his thumbnail at a speck of something on the glass end table beside him. In the chair across from him, I lean forward slightly.

“It's the only way we know of.” When Grayson's uncertain expression doesn't alter, I sigh. “If Kenji gets injured as Talos, the only way we know of to heal him is by applying the liquid prism to bronze and grafting new tissue out of the result. We've seen it in action. His bronze body won't revert to human form with a life-threatening injury. It's...some sort of defense mechanism innate to his abilities. But if we just try to graft regular bronze to his body, it could kill him. So...yeah. As long as he intends to keep fighting, until we can find another way to heal him...we need to keep manufacturing liquid prism.”

Grayson sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look...I'm in no way against making sure we have what we need to keep Kenji alive in the...unfortunately likely event of grievous injury...”

“And I totally get your reservations,” I assure him. “In the wrong hands, that stuff is dangerous.”

“Potentially beyond what we've already seen. Alodia did say that liquified time crystal is supposed to be highly toxic to humans. ...But if Kenji is likely to need it to survive a battle, then we have to keep up production. It's just...” He trails off, sighing and shaking his head. “We need to keep it quiet. Only have as many working on it as we need.”

“I think Hazel mostly developed the formula herself. And I don't think she will question you continuing to wanting to keep a small batch on hand.”

Grayson's eyes meet mine. “...Eventually, she's going to start asking questions that are going to be difficult to answer. ...I might think about asking Tahira to let us bring her into the club.”

“Is it necessary to go that far?”

“I don't know. ...But I'd like to keep Tahira in the loop. Not make the decision without her.” He gives me a rueful smile. “I'd be a real jerk boyfriend if I didn't.”

“Yeah, I'll concede that point.” I lean back in my chair. “The good news is that I think we have enough on hand right now to get us through a few more battles. But I think we'd all feel safer with a few more doses.”

“I'll get Hazel on it, then. First thing in the morning. For now, it's late, so you go home and relax.” He smiles again, and it's genuine this time. “Boss's orders, Dax. Your holiday bonus should cover any gifts you need to buy, so don't feed me any lines about needing the overtime.”

I can't help chuckling as I stand up and grab my coat. “Okay, boss. You have a good night.”

Alodia

Even in this timeline, I don't think I can remember Christmas ever being so exhausting. I'm sure being pregnant is the biggest reason for it, of course. But combined with that, it's my first Christmas home after having been gone for five years, and everyone who loves me is determined to mark the occasion. I don't really mind. I'm sure if I didn't have a little person growing inside me and sending my hormones into overdrive, I would be completely on board with the idea. But some aspects of the plan to make this Christmas unforgettable are inherently inconvenient. Like when Aunt Molly and Uncle Rob decide to surprise us by having a massive tree delivered and hiring professional landscapers and interior decorators to deck our halls both inside and out, and we haven't had time to get Varyyn hidden away somewhere he won't invite questions. Thankfully, Jake comes to our rescue and manages to work out a deal that results in us keeping the tree and decorations and the landscapers being allowed to decorate the grounds, but which keeps strangers out of the interior while not depriving the workers of a wage. Aunt Molly and Uncle Rob concede that the cost doesn't really matter to them as long as we're happy. They even acknowledge that they probably should have asked before sending strangers to our home.

That very day, a couple packages arrive from Jake's parents, containing another batch of decorations for us. The end result is that our little nuclear family of five has its own private decorating party that actually puts me in a proper holiday mood. Diego puts on a playlist of Christmas songs that run the gamut from medieval carols to John Denver and the Muppets, Mike prepares cider from a traditional family recipe, and I tease Jake by pretending that I intend to climb up the ladder to hang garlands.

“That's not really funny, Alodia,” he grumbles when I laugh and step off the ladder. “I just had images flashing through my mind of you falling and what could happen...”

I kiss him placatingly. “Falling is a hazard of ladders, you know. Even for non-pregnant people.”

“Yeah, but a fall from that height isn't likely to be fatal to a full-grown adult. So if any of us fall off that ladder, we're likely to break something at worse. You fall off that thing, you might...” He trails off, his expression twisting, and I realize just how much I scared him. I kiss him again, apologetically this time.

“You're right. I'm sorry. I promise I never actually intended to climb the ladder. I'll stick to hanging ornaments.”

“Geez, are Molly and Rob keeping anything for their own tree this year?” Diego wonders, pulling out the third box. “I feel like most of these are pretty familiar.”

“Yeah, a lot of them are. They've definitely given me all my favorites. Plus all the homemade ones from school projects. ...I expected them to part with those without much fuss, but I am surprised that they're letting me have the dancing ballerina and the Swarvoski snowflake. Jake, what did your parents send us?”

“Let's find out.” He kneels beside the box and fishes his keys out of his pocket to tear through the packing tape holding the cardboard shipping box closed. We crowd around him as he pulls the box open and digs through the bubble wrap, coming up with a Nativity barn, a box of painted figurines, and a burgundy ornament box. His eyes widen a little. “Oh, wow!”

“What?”

“This,” he says, trailing his fingertips over the ornament box. “My grandparents were getting these sets of gold ornaments as part of a...I guess it was a mailing club or something. You know, like a book or a music club where they send you books and CDs every month. Except it was once a year and it was ornaments. When they died, they left my folks a couple boxes.”

“Generous of them to give us one.”

“Yeah. And this Nativity set...well, my parents got this in the late 80's when Rebecca was a baby. Pop and Grandpa built the stable. Every year when we put up the tree, Pop'd take us to this religious bookstore in town and we'd get a new figurine. A new shepherd or a milk maid or an animal.” He chuckles. “By the time I came along, we actually had two Baby Jesuses because when Rebecca was a toddler, she used to play with the figures like toys. One year, the Baby Jesus went missing, and it wasn't until they took down the Christmas tree that they found Him. Apparently, Rebecca had decided to make Baby Jesus climb the tree and just...left Him there.”

I laugh. “So they'd already bought a replacement?”

“Yup.”

Varyyn lifts the wooden stable carefully, almost reverently. “Where do you think we should place it?”

I look around the living room, considering. “How about that end table over there? It looks big enough. We can put down the linen tablecloth so it doesn't get scratched.”

“Diego, will you help me, my darling? You know better where all the figures should be placed.”

I smile a little as I watch the two of them lay the tablecloth and begin placing the painted figurines.

“We should keep the wise men outside the stable for now,” Diego declares. “They're not actually supposed to arrive until the Feast of the Epiphany, which isn't until early January.”

I laugh. “Catholic upbringing still dies hard,” I quip, to which Diego grins and shrugs sheepishly.

“I can empathize,” Jake says, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder.

“I can't really,” Mike admits. “My family are C&E Methodists. How about yours, Alodia?”

“Secular as they come,” I reply. “The kind who only go to church for weddings. But remember I was practically raised by Diego's family, so I had enough second-hand Catholic education that I probably know as much as he does. I could probably still say the entire Mass in Spanish. And most of the prayers.”

“Please don't,” Diego entreats ruefully.

“I can say it in French if you prefer,” Jake offers.

“How about no one says Mass?” Diego groans in mock-exasperation. “That would take forever!”

I laugh and turn my attention back to the tree, pulling a glitteirng gold sleigh out of the burgundy ornament box.

“What do you think of all this, Varyyn?” I ask. “I mean, I'm guessing this isn't your first Christmas, but have you gotten used to everyone going crazy this time of year yet?”

Varyyn smiles, shrugging. “You only experienced one Niala'rei,” he points out. “And quite an unusual one at that. But the preparation and excitement that go into Christmas is not very much different. The stories are different, of course. Those took me a while to get straight in my head. But it is not very difficult for me to understand building such celebration around an event with spiritual and cultural significance to your people. Besides. I like an excuse to shower my beloved with gifts. Whatever it might be.”

I laugh as Diego blushes, but I can see the smile on his lips. “Well, if that isn't reason enough to get behind the holiday, I don't know what is.”

Tahira

The Sunday after Hanukkah ends, I find myself at St. Catherine's again, checking on Dylan and his family after the last Mass of the day. To my distress, I find them subdued, their spirits obviously dampened.

“...We've never had Christmas without our parents before,” Dylan reminds me gently when I ask what's wrong. I feel a stab of guilt, much stronger than I was expecting to. I have been working on convincing myself that I did everything I could that day. That the blame lays with Silas Prescott, who started the fight, and not with me. Most of the time I believe it. Then I remember that people died that day and all of that unravels. But this conversation isn't about me.

“That's going to be so hard on all of you,” I say softly. “...I imagine you'll be spending the day with Father Le?”

“Of course. Though he'll be leading Mass most of the morning.”

“...What about presents?”

“Well...we've got a few. I've managed to save enough to get everyone something, and Father Le pitched in. But...it's going to be a pretty lean year.”

I am quiet for a moment. “...I would like to help. If you'll let me.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“I know I don't. But I want to.”

“Why, though?” He looks wearily at me. “If it's just because you feel guilty, don't. Our parents' deaths weren't your fault. You were fighting to protect them. I know I'm only fifteen, but I'm old enough to know that even a superhero can't save everyone.”

“It's not just guilt,” I insist.

“Then why us? Why not some other kids? There are plenty in the city who will have less than we have this Christmas.”

“I know. And I have given to charities and volunteered at homeless shelters every year since I was younger than Alex. But you're the family that's happened to fall into my lap this year. And I won't just ignore you. If you tell me you don't want my help, I'll leave you alone. But I won't ignore you.”

He is quiet for a moment. Finally, he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “What did you have in mind?”

Estela

“I'm going to miss you.”

Quinn tips her head at me like a confused puppy. “It won't be that long before you see me again. I mean, you are still meeting me at my parents' before New Years' right? You still want to drive to California together?”

“Of course I do. It's just...I've gotten used to having you here...”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “I've gotten used to being here. I wish we could spend Christmas together, but it's Mom and Dad's first Christmas since they've officially been living together again...”

“And it's my Mom's first Christmas in eleven years,” I add softly.

She pulls me into a tight embrace. I hold her, burying my face in the curve of her neck. I try to tell myself that it won't be long before I see her again. And it won't be. But that doesn't make the parting any easier. Especially since I still haven't found the courage to tell her what I have been thinking and feeling for some time now.

“I promise,” she murmurs. “We'll be together again in no time.”

I hesitate for a moment. There is so much I want to say right now. But all I can manage is, “Merry Christmas, Quinn.”

Caleb

Christmas Eve. It came on faster than I expected. I guess I've been kinda caught up with Rourke and his crazy—and trying to sort out how much is crazy and how much is true. It's been dark for hours as I lie on the roof of my van in an empty parking lot, filling my lungs with toxins in the name of relaxation. The clouds of smoke I exhale mingle with the clouds formed by my breath hitting the frigid air as I stare up into the falling snow.

The Island's Heart is gone. Alodia Chandler had something to do with its disappearance. There were other crystals like the Prism Crystal, but those are gone, too. The Prism Crystal is the last of its kind. I don't know why, but I feel confident that those are facts. The rest of it...let's just say that I don't think Rourke's all there. But I don't think he's all gone, either. I'm not sure what to make of his claim that the entire world was destroyed in a volcanic eruption that no one can remember because of time travel. But I wasn't living in a cave six or so years ago, either. I remember the story being all over the news about the eleven students who vanished on a trip to the Caribbean. For six months, no one could get near the island. Given that the Prism Crystal came from that island, I can't stay skeptical about the idea that something weird was going on there. More and more as I think about it, I find myself believing that Alodia Chandler might be something more than an ordinary human.

A sharp whistle startles me out of my thoughts. The surge of adrenaline through my veins makes me drop my cigarette. Luckily my outerwear is thick enough and my reflexes fast enough that I avoid getting burned as I sit up sharply. I glare at a scrawny figure who stands in the beam of a street lamp, partially shrouded by the snowfall.

“Goddammit, Roach! You know everyone hates when you do that!”

Roach shrugs, wiping at a runny nose with his sleeve. “Gotta get your attention somehow.”

I feel my scowl deepen. This kid barely has hair on his balls, but he's already one of Gigi's favorites. He's also her loyal little lapdog. “What do you want? Somehow I doubt Gigi's inclined to give me a Christmas bonus.”

“No. But she does want to know what you've learned.”

“I haven't exactly been at this long enough to have learned much.”

Roach folds his arms, narrowing his eyes. “You've had time to learn something. You been out here awhile, Caleb. You gonna prove you're earning your pay? Or does Gigi have to assume you're taking advantage of her generosity?”

I snort. “Right. Generosity. Is that what she calls it?” But I know better than to refuse him. “Look. I managed to get in to talk to Everett Rourke himself. Problem is trying to figure out what in that addled head of his is real and what's noise.”

“What's he say about the Island's Heart?”

“That it was alive. But it ain't alive anymore. It was possessed by some crystal alien thing. The Prism Crystal is just one of thousands of crystals that used to exist on the island, but don't exist anymore since the alien...evaporated or something.”

Roach raises an eyebrow skeptically. “...Evaporated?”

“I don't know the technical term. I don't even know what the alien thing actually did to make itself gone. I just know that it's gone, and so is the Island's Heart, and all the crystals 'cept the Prism Crystal.”

Roach appears to be thinking this over. “What about Alodia Chandler?”

“Rourke figures she's actually a crystal alien herself. Put her in stasis 'cause he wanted to experiment on her. ...Told the courts she disappeared 'cause he figured he'd get out of the psych asylum someday and go dissect her. ...Take that back to Gigi. Tell her I got more sessions with Rourke, and I'm gonna see what else I can get out of him.”

Roach narrows his eyes at me. He's suspicious, I can tell. But he clearly figures it's gonna be worth something to Gigi, because he leaves without another word. I sigh and pull out another cigarette to light up. I'm only a few minutes into my smoke when I'm interrupted again.

“Who was that?” a voice demands from behind me. I turn on the cold roof of the van to see Talos emerging from the shadows, the streetlights reflecting off his bronze body. I sigh.

“Your boss know you're out here on Christmas Eve?”

“It's not Dragonness's concern what I do with myself on Christmas Eve,” he retorts sharply. “And if you think I would hesitate to tell her if I thought I just watched you betray us—”

“I assume you heard what I told the kid, right?” I'm not in any mood to listen to Talos' threats right now. “I know you're not actually stupid, Talos. You been listening to the recordings same as Dragonness. You know I didn't give Roach shit.”

“Roach? Is that his given name?”

“Who the hell knows?” I grumble, taking a drag on my cigarette. “...Look, I had to give Gigi something.”

Talos frowns. “You're...actually afraid of her, aren't you.”

I let our a short, bitter bark of laughter. “Hell, yeah! You would be, too!”

“You can conjure fire out of nowhere. Is she even a superhuman?”

“No.”

“Then...what's stopping you from just burning her alive and having it over with? Not that I'd condone that sort of thing. But why do you stick around?”

“...'Cause I'm not the only one she's got her hooks in. She gets 'em while they're young and vulnerable. Kids like Roach. Weak. Pliable. ...I seen what she does to the ones who try to leave.” I close my eyes a moment. There are memories threatening to crawl out of the dark place I've stuffed them. “...Enough of them are under her spell enough that they'll do it for her. ...And if she were gone, they wouldn't know how to take care of themselves.”

“So...it's altruism? You're just protecting the little children?”

“Those little children aren't so different from me, Talos.” When he doesn't answer that immediately, I change the subject. “...You guys didn't happen to listen to the latest recording yet, did you?”

“...I haven't yet, why?”

“...I just been thinking about some stuff he said. You...don't think it's possible he's been in touch with Silas Prescott, do you?”

“...Why would you ask that?”

“I don't know. He didn't say anything that strongly hinted that he had. But he didn't manage to put it in my head. ...And if he gets in contact with Prescott, it's just a short walk to learning Tahira's identity.” I look up, meeting Talos' bronze gaze. “...I don't want that to happen. Rourke's not safe just because he's in prison.”

“...You're right.” He is quiet a moment. “I suppose I ought to thank you for the warning.”

I can't help smirking. “Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too. ...You shiny jackass.”

Alodia

The whole Christmas season has turned out to be pretty hectic. But for the most part, I can get into it. Still, I realize well in advance that I am going to need a few days to recover from Christmas before I can start anticipating our Catalyst New Year's party. By Christmas Eve, Mike has gone back Portland to spend the holiday with his parents. The four of us left drive up to L.A, where Rebecca hosts us for a Christmas Eve brunch before she has to go to work. Then we immediately head back to Laguna Beach to drop Varyyn off before we join Diego's family in Riverside for the traditional Christmas Eve posada and dinner, where I immediately find myself surrounded by a horde of Soto women all eager to give support and advice to the pregnant woman. Fortunately for me, two of Diego's cousins are also expecting, which takes a little of the attention off me. I end up having a pretty good time with the other two mothers, Gabriela and Lourdes, both of whom I remember meeting when Diego and I were children. Gabriela is eight months gone with her first child, a son. Lourdes is barely three months along, but she already has a son and a daughter, so she has plenty of wisdom to share. I don't make it all the way to midnight, but my belly does give me the perfect excuse to duck out early—and bring Jake and Diego with me, since we all came together.

The plan on Christmas Day is to attend my aunt and uncle's annual holiday party, which will be held at the house in Riverside for the first time in years since we have officially taken over the beach house. I expect it won't be nearly as exciting as the posada, but I still want to attend if I have the energy. Luckily, the party is in the evening, which means Diego, Varyyn, Jake, and I all get to spend Christmas morning together as a family.

Naturally, we begin by exchanging gifts. Jake and I each seem to be trying to turn the other into our personal Christmas dress-up doll, showering each other with new clothes. He also gives me a beautiful tear-shaped crystal pendant necklace on a delicate gold chain and matching earrings. Meanwhile, an envelope with a business card inside reveals that I've booked a session with a photographer to get pictures taken of us before the baby is born. Diego and I of course stick to our tradition of silly gifts for each other—Crown and the Flame action-figure set for me, and a collection of obscure Star Wars novels for him. He and Jake get each other wall calendars, while Varyyn give both me and Jake decorative tins of gourmet loose-leaf tea. Varyyn presents his husband with a hand-sewn leatherbound journal, and Diego leads us outside to show Varyyn the windsurfing board Jake helped him sneak into the pool the night before—complete with a wetsuit.

“The better to disguise yourself with,” he explains. “The beach is pretty secluded out here, so I think it should be pretty safe to surf without attracting too much attention.”

Varyyn pulls Diego in for a deep kiss, tenderly running his fingers through his hair. “Thank you, my darling. I shall enjoy this a great deal.”

“We've got one more box to unwrap,” Jake announces.

“Oh, we do?”

“Yeah. The other day, a package came in the mail from Tahira, with strict instructions not to open it before Christmas.”

Jake leads us inside, and fetches the package from the hall closet where he had apparently hidden it. It's not a small parcel, but it's not huge either, and it's not at all heavy. We tear it open and find two smaller boxes, one addressed to me and Jake, and the other to Diego and Varyyn. Jake and I find a soft yellow baby blanket printed with sleepy puppies and kittens, hand-knitted booties and a baby hat, and a couple of onesies. We coo and fawn over the items, draping the onesies over my belly, until we notice that Varyyn and Diego have gone silent as they read over a piece of paper in Diego's hand.

“...What is it?”

“...A disguise,” Varyyn replies, his voice thick with emotion. “S-so that I don't have to hide. If Diego were to need me beside him out there in the world...I can staywith him...”

“...What? What do you mean?”

Diego lifts a ring out of a small velvet box. “...This ring. Dax Darcisse developed it. There's a button here that will create a virtual disguise for Varyyn. Kind of a Jem and the Holograms deal. It will make him look human if he ever needs to blend in.”

I feel my heart beating faster. Is Dax really capable of developing a device like that? Will it really work?

“Try it on, Varyyn. Let's see what it does.”

Diego takes Varyyn's left hand, slipping the ring onto his finger like they're standing at the altar, which just makes me grin. Then, Varyyn grips Diego's hand in his right while he brings the thumb of his left hand up to press the button. There is a soft beep and pale lights seem to race over his body. And then...Varyyn is gone. In his place is a handsome man of his exact shape and height, wearing his clothes, except with dark brown skin, dark eyes, and black hair styled in dreadlocks. Diego and Jake stare at him in amazement, their eyes the size of dinner plates. I'm sure I don't look any different. Varyyn looks around at us, and then down at his newly-dark hands.

“...By the Bride and her Lover...” He leaps to his feet, rushing to look in the mirror in the hallway, the rest of us following. “...It...it worked! It really and truly worked! I look...human.”

Diego comes up to wrap his arms around Varyyn from behind. The holographic disguise barely flickers.

“...I think you look beautiful, babe. Not that you don't look beautiful in blue, too.”

Varyyn cautiously smiles. “I look...very different. I think I prefer my true form. But...if this form is ever needed...”

“I can think of a way to test it out that you might appreciate,” I remark. “What would you think of me calling Aunt Molly and asking if she'd welcome one more guest tonight?”

Grayson

Christmas Day, I volunteer myself to help Tahira in her plans to make the day special for Dylan and his family. Everything begins around noon. My role is to pick them up from the clergy house in a limousine and take them to see the latest pirate movie while Tahira and her team set up the clock tower. I've also helped with paying for the gifts. I think Tahira was a little embarassed having to rely on me to buy most of the presents, but as I remind her, I can afford it. Besides, my father was responsible for the deaths of their parents. Much more than she was.

The kids are thrilled to be traveling in a limousine. I spoil them with snacks and sodas at the movie, and they seem to enjoy it. I have fun with it, too. It's got a good story, engaging characters, action, and romance. Actually, the romance makes me think it might make a good date movie. The kids leave in high spirits, hopped up on sugar, popcorn, and thrilling action. My limousine is going to be a complete mess, but it's more than worth it.

“Thank you, Mister Prescott,” Ysabel says, “for taking us to the movie.” The others echo her sentiments. I smile at them.

“You're very welcome. But the day isn't over yet.”

“It's not?” RJ squeals. “Where are we going next?!”

“The clock tower. A good friend of ours has a Christmas party planned just for you.”

Quinn

Christmas has been absolutely perfect. I've had not one complaint. My parents are living in Chicago now, in a comfortable suburban neighborhood. Their house is small, but it has room enough for them, and for me. They flirt and laugh over gifts, they flirt and laugh over dinner, and they shower me with affection. After dinner, we cuddle together on the couch, me between my parents, nursing eggnog, a fire crackling away while It's a Wonderful Life plays on the television. It's always been my favorite Christmas movie, but this year it seems to hit me particularly hard. I'm tearing up at almost every scene. By the time George and Mary are walking down the aisle, I can't stop sniffling. I feel Dad's hand stroking my hair.

“You okay there, Flipper?”

“I'm fine, Daddy,” I promise, wiping my eyes. “I just...love this movie. And I'm just so happy to have us all together on Christmas.”

“We're happy to be together, too,” Dad replies, kissing the top of my head. Mom takes my hand, bringing it up to her mouth to kiss my fingers.

“...I love you, Quinn.”

I curl up close to her, laying my head on her shoulder. “I love you, too, Mommy.”

“...There was a time when Christmas made me cry. Because I felt certain that every Christmas would be the last I had with my only child.”

“Pam...” Dad says softly. I put a hand over his.

“It's okay, Daddy. ...I'm better now, but you know I understand how sick I was.”

Mom hesitates a moment. “...I love you, too, Jim.”

“I know, Pam. I love you, too.”

“The thing is, Quinn...sometimes I worry that you might...think that I ever stopped loving. Especially if I were to explain...certain things about why my marriage to your father broke down in the first place...”

I sit up, hunting for the remote, and pause the movie. My dad looks worried, but I take his hand. I look at my mother. “I never believed you didn't love me,” I assure her. “...But I can tell you want to say something.”

“I do.” She draws me into her arms, and I rest my head on her chest. “...Darling...when you were born, you were perfect. You were everything your father and I dreamed of. ...And then you got sick. The doctors told us what you had was incurable. That you wouldn't live to grow up. That you probably wouldn't live more than ten more years. For the first few years, your father and I were on the same page. Scrambling around, doing everything to save you. To give you more time. We poured everything into protecting you. But nothing seemed to work. Your illness would go into remission, but then it would flare up again worse than before. ...I went through every stage of grief. I denied. I was angry. I bargained. ...When I reached depression, I honestly thought about killing myself because I couldn't bear the thought of burying my child. ...Your dad knows all this. ...He also knows that I eventually reached acceptance.

“...I want you to understand that acceptance doesn't mean I was ready to see you die. It doesn't mean that I wasn't going to grieve you all over again when what I believed was inevitable happened. ...It just means that I came to understand that I couldn't die with you. That when you died, I would still be alive. And I had to keep living. For my sake...I had to accept that there would be life beyond my Quinn. You understand that, don't you, sweetheart?”

I wind my arms around my mother. “I do understand, Mom. More than you might think. ...When my friend Alodia...when we thought she was lost to us...” I pause to wipe fresh tears from my eyes. “...My friend Jake was in love with her. Still is. When we thought she was gone for good, we did everything possible to help him move on, or at least keep living. ...He ended up getting her back, though.”

“Just as your dad and I ended up getting you back. For which I will always be grateful. ...I never stopped loving you, Quinn. And it wasn't your fault that we divorced. It wasn't even your illness' fault. Everyone grieves differently, and at different paces. And losing a child—or anticipating the loss of a child—that has been shown time and time again to put relationships through the ringer, for the simple reason that everyone grieves differently. Your father and I processed the situation differently, at different paces. ...He was still fighting to save you when I was thinking more about cherishing every moment I had left with you.”

“You can still cherish every moment with me, Mom.”

“I know. And I'm so thankful to have you and your dad to share my life with...” If she intends to continue her train of thought, she's interrupted by the doorbell. All three of us jump, exchanging confused glances. “...What on earth...?”

I sit up, pushing back the blanket that was draped over my lap. “Someone's at the door,” I remark needlessly. I get up and go to answer it, my parents following behind me. I turn on the porch light and unlock the front door. When I pull it open and see who's on the other side of the screen, my brain goes numb for a moment.

Huddled and shivering, covered in a coating of fresh falling snow and painfully underdressed for a midwestern winter night, is Estela. She shifts awkwardly.

“...Hello...I'm...early,” she manages to say through chattering teeth. Her voice breaks me out of my stupor. I push open the screen door.

“Oh, my God, come inside!” She shivers her way inside, and I close the door as she stands on the mat, stamping off the snow. “Mom, Dad, this is my friend Estela.”

“Welcome,” Mom says somewhat dazedly. “We...weren't expecting you for a few days.”

“Yes. I know. ...But I couldn't wait.”

“Couldn't wait?” I echo. “Wha...how did you get here?”

She blinks. “Well, I am a C.E.O of Rourke International. I can summon planes and rent cars anytime I want.”

“But...what about your family?”

“We had our celebration already. And I have been in San Trobida for more than a month at least. ...I missed you, Quinn. And...when you said goodbye a few days ago, I...I missed the opportunity to tell you—mmph!”

She's cut off as I throw myself into her arms, kissing her firmly and fully on the mouth. She almost immediately relaxes into the kiss winding her arms around my waist and pulling my hips toward hers. We're both breathless by the time we break apart.

“I...suppose I don't really need to say it now...” she murmurs.

My mom clears her throat. “...I suppose we don't need to make up the guest bedroom then?” she asks. I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks as I turn to see my parents grinning at us.

“No, I...think we can both sleep in my bed.” I look at Estela for confirmation, and she nods. I laugh, bringing her close for another kiss. “...Merry Christmas, Estela. ...Let's get you warmed up.”

[theoperaghostsstudent]

Holiday Traditions (Tree Bros Fanfic)

((Here’s a short fluffy story for you, Victor! Happy Holidays, and I hope you like your gift!))

Dear Evan Hansen Secret Santa Blog: @dearevanhansensecretsanta

Secret Santa Gift Dedicated to: @futuristicallyoriginalmerman

Pairings: Evan x Connor / Connor x Happiness

Word Count: 1,817

------------------

The last time it felt like Christmas in the Murphy household in-Connor’s opinion- was when he was 10 years old. He remembers making handmade ornaments out of clay and decorating the tree with his family, drinking eggnog with his dad until his mom found out and took it away, and he remembers sitting by the fireplace with a mug of hot cocoa in his hand while he and his sister listened to their mother read “Twas the Night Before Christmas” until they fell asleep right there.

Those were the times Connor long for once more, but things inside his head just seemed to change and he had no idea how to explain that. He guesses that that’s probably the reason why he would act out and get so mad. He’s hoping this year will be better since it’s been almost a year since he started his medications. He himself felt lighter, but the atmosphere around the Murphy’s house hadn’t changed at all. It was always one thing or another with Larry, and there was nothing Zoe or Cynthia could do to calm him down. Connor was just thankful that Ms. Hansen and Evan said he could come over to their house whenever he’d like. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. He’d celebrate Christmas with them!

Connor was already half way to the Hansen house when he received a call.

“Where are you?” he heard Zoe’s voice on the other end when he answered it.

“Driving.” Connor replied, gritting his teeth and taking a deep breath before continuing as he reminded himself that what happened between him and Larry wasn’t her fault. “I think I’m gonna go over to Hansen’s house for the rest of the month and celebrate Christmas there.”

“Christmas? At Evan’s house? Connor, you do know that-”

“I gotta let you go, there’s a cop up ahead and I don’t wanna get caught with the phone, but I’ll text you later.”

“Wait, Connor-”

Connor hung up the phone and drove in silence the rest of the way. Once he arrived and parked, he was surprised to see that Evan and his mom hadn’t put up the lights yet. Maybe he could offer to do it? He always liked doing it when he was younger and he hasn’t done it in a while?

Connor stepped out of the car and his thoughts were interrupted when he noticed the blinds in the living room window move. Soon enough, the door opened to show an eager Evan.

“Con-Connor, what are-are you doing here?” Evan asked as Connor approached the front door.

“Well, it’s almost Christmas and Larry’s already gone bat-shit crazy, so I thought I could maybe spend Christmas here. Is that okay?” He said as he passed Evan in the doorway.

“Uh-well-sure! But-you see, my-my mom and I are-” Evan stopped speaking when he noticed Connor’s eyes had gone wide at all the decorations inside the house. Menorahs here, dreidels there, gelts in the living room, and a rather large sign saying ‘Happy Hannukah’ was hung on the wall.

“-Jewish...” Evan finished. Oh...OH. Well, shit. How had Connor not known?

“Damn, and I had thought it was odd that you didn’t put lights up the day after Thanksgiving.” Connor chuckled a bit, still admiring the decorations of blues, whites, and golds.

“Oh!-We do have these kind of-like dreidel projection type lights-and we put them outside at night and it looks like one of those old Windows XP screen saver-but with dreidels, and yeah-I should-uh-be quiet...now.” Evan rambled on before rushing to a corner and gesturing to it.

“See?” Evan said with a smile. Connor laughed a little. To think he came here to spend Christmas, but it looks like he’s got the religions all mixed up. 

Suddenly the fire alarm went off and the smell of smoke filled the room.

“Mom?!” Evan shouted, rushing towards the kitchen. Connor quickly followed and found Evan’s mom, Heidi, coughing and using a place mat to blow away the spoke from something that was burning in a pan of oil.

“I don’t get it-!” Heidi coughed. “I followed your grandma’s recipe, but I still can’t fry these dang latkes.” She coughed again before laughing. She turned and realized that Connor was there.

“Oh, Connor! Welcome home, hun, but you’re gonna have to wait a while since I’ve gotta re-train myself how to make these things before we can eat, but there should be some donuts on the table if you want a snack! Now, the two of you, out of my kitchen!”

“But-but, mom!”

“No buts, Ev! I gotta do it on my own this time or else I’ll never learn and you’ll have to do it every year like you have been lately. Now you and Connor should go play spin the dreidel while I finish up here, okay? Go! Shoo!” Heidi said lovingly as she kicked them out of the kitchen. Did Connor hear right though? She wanted them to play something called ‘spin the dreidel’?

Connor’s heart was practically beating out of his chest. Was this like spin the bottle, but like, the Jewish edition? Did Heidi figure out his crush on Evan and that’s why she was suggesting it?

“Connor? Are-are you coming?” Evan said as he sat himself in front of the coffee table in the living room.

“Y-yeah. What is this game anyway?” Connor said as he sat himself at the opposite end.

“Oh-that’s right-you don’t-don’t know how to play, huh? Well,” Evan said as he lifted one of the dreidels into his hand. “this is a dreidel. There are different-uh-symbols on it like nun, shin, gimmel, and hay.”

“Dude, I have no idea what the fuck any of those things mean.” Evan rolled his eyes.

“I was getting there!” he replied with a smile. Connor now wished he hadn’t picked his hair up into a bun as he felt the blush creep up his neck and into his ears.

“This one means you don’t take any gelts-oh-well, in this case it’s chocolates since we don’t gamble and uh-” Evan cleared his throat before continuing. “anyway, this one means you put a chocolate into the pile, this means you take the entire pile, and this means you take half the pile.” He said as he pointed to every symbol. “Kinda like a Jewish version of poker I guess?” He added.

“You’ve never played poker before, have you?”

“Uh-um-no?” Evan replied with a shy smile. Connor felt a little more at ease at discovering that the game is no where close to spin the bottle, but he did feel slightly disappointed as well.

After playing a few rounds of the game and being told the story behind it, Connor and Evan sat down for some latkes while Heidi told them an overly dramatic version of the story of Hannukah, completed with over the top acted out actions and funny voices for every person mentioned in the story.

Connor laughed harder than he ever had when Heidi picked up the spatula from the latkes to use as a sword in her reenactment and accidentally smacked a wine glass off the table and into a wall. At first he was scared that she was going to get upset, but she simply stopped her story to say “Who put that there?” before shrugging and continuing her tale, sword spatula in hand.

“So what do you normally do during the holidays?” Evan asked Connor after they lit the menorah for the first night.

“Uh, well, there’s Christmas caroling, decorating the house with lights, making Santa some cookies-?”

“You do those things with your family?” Evan asked, confused as to why he was here if those were his family traditions.

“Oh...No, I was just listing a few things people normally do for Christmas. Like, we believe a big, fat man crawls down the chimney to give us gifts and-oh! My mom used to read me ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’ which is a story about Santa. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it or not, but it’s pretty cool.” Connor replied.

“I’ve heard that one before!-Uh-On Dasher, on Prancer, on Donnor, and Blitzen!-Right?” Evan replied happily. Connor sat there wide eyed.

“Wait, I thought you didn’t know that since it’s a Christmas story.”

“Connor, I’m Jewish, but I don’t live under a rock-I mean-! I didn’t want that to come out so mean-I-I just-”

“Hey, it’s okay, Hansen.” Connor laughed. “That’s pretty cool that you know the story.”

“R-really?-Thanks-!” Evan nervously chuckled as a blush crept across his face.

“You okay, Ev?”

“Ye-yeah! Um-would you maybe want to-uh-read the story together? I can make us some hot chocolate and we could read it-or listen to it! They might have a video online or something?-That’s only if you want to of course-!”

“Evan, I’d...I’d actually really like that.” Connor said, grinning ear to ear.

And so Evan made the two of them some hot chocolate and they cozied themselves in under a blanket in the living room while they watched a short animation of the story off of Connor’s phone. Connor couldn’t have been happier making all these new memories with the person who was special to him. Could this night get any better?

Connor’s thoughts were interrupted when he saw something dangling between the two of them out of his peripheral vision. He and Evan both looked up to see a ball of mistletoe hanging from a string that was attached to a rod. Evan and Connor’s faces turned redder than Rudolph’s nose as they saw Heidi swinging it above them.

“Found this at Hobby Lobby this morning and thought I’d buy it just in case! Well, here is the ‘just in case’, so get to it since I’m not getting any younger and neither are my arms.” She laughed. Connor’s heart was beating so fast that he was left frozen until Evan took in a deep breath and pulled him in by the collar of his sweater. Their lips met instantly, with the kiss tasting like the hot chocolate they had just finished drinking before. Connor wrapped his arms around Evan, not wanting to let him go, but of course the time came for exactly that. When they pulled apart, they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Merry Christmas.” Evan smiled sheepishly.

“Happy Channukah.” Connor said, pronouncing the ‘ch’ sound in the beginning of the word. Evan started to laugh, making Connor confused.

“What?”

“N-nothing! We-we’ll work on it!” Evan laughed.

After all the extra laughing and Heidi putting ‘The Grinch’ on for them to watch before bed, Evan and Connor gather up their pillows and blankets and placed them side by side on the living room floor. They two fell asleep holding the other close.

Before he fell asleep, Connor heard Heidi listening to the story they were watching earlier. His eyes slowly shut as he heard the final lines:

~FIN~

[olicitysecretsanta]

Don’t Go To Bed Angry

Hi Anna ( @jaspertown ),

Here is your fic gift. Luckily you like ‘lovey-dovey’ since it is pretty much impossible for me to keep the fluffiness off the page whenever I come up with a story about these two characters. I hope you like this Future Fic about Oliver and Felicity’s family at the holidays. There is a bit of conflict at the start, but we do need a reason (somewhat contrived) for them to kiss and makeup by the end.

All the best to you and your family. Merry Christmas!

@laureningall (Lauren)

Rating: T - No warnings

Summary:  A last minute change in plans leads to some sharp words between our happy couple. A few days apart leaves plenty of time for each of them to regret their words. Will Oliver be able to keep his promise never to miss a family holiday?

Characters: Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak, Future Smoak-Queen children, William Clayton, Donna Smoak, Thea Queen (mentioned), Barry Allen (mentioned).

Tags: Olicity Secret Santa 2017, OSS 2017, Olicity, Future Fic, Married!Olicity, Fluff, Humor Angst, Holiday celebrations, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kiss and Makeup.

>>>>———————–>>

Wednesday Morning - Star City

On the surface, this day appeared to be just like any other day in the Smoak-Queen household. The morning was filled with sleepy children, hasty breakfasts, and periodic nagging - they were always on a very tight schedule. Felicity just could not focus due to the discussion, well, argument if she was being truly honest with herself, that marked the start of her day.

She had just stepped out of the shower to see a rolling suitcase open on their bed. Oliver returned from the closet to drop a garment bag alongside.

“Going somewhere?”

Oliver looked up at her, “yes, I just got the call. Ruby is sick, high fever. Thea can’t make the Urban Renewal Conference in Central City. I need to go. We’ve worked too hard on the presentation to skip it. I’ll be back on Saturday.”  

“But Friday is the first night of Hanukkah.”

“I know Felicity.”

“Can’t someone else go in Thea’s place?”

“Thea’s already contacted most of the staff. I have no choice. It’s December, vacations are already scheduled. The kids will just have to understand.’

“Oliver.”

“Felicity, please, I need to pack and get to the airport in less than an hour.”

“You promised when you took the position at the Foundation that you wouldn’t miss any important family events. You said you had staff for that…”

“Right, just like you said once you went back to work full-time that there would be no late nights. Last week you missed dinner three times.”

Regret settled into the pit of his stomach. He retreated to pull some other clothes out of his dresser.

“You know that was different. I told you in advance, its not the same. I’m disappointed in you Oliver, in a way I haven’t been in a very long time.“  

Felicity turned on her heels to head back into the bathroom, pulling the door closed quite forcefully behind her.

>>>>———————–>>

Friday afternoon - Central City

“I’m disappointed in you Oliver, in a way I haven’t been in a very long time.”

Her words echoed in his head. They hadn’t had an argument this petty in their nearly dozen years of marriage. They vowed never to go to bed angry, but this was worse. He left town angry, right before the start of a family holiday, Hanukkah. So much for holiday spirit.   

Oliver shifted in his chair in a vain attempt to find a comfortable position. His knee always bothered him when he sat for a long period of time. The presenter droned on about various urban renewal initiatives and the relative time for return on investment. There were still two more speakers before his turn to present the foundation’s initiative. After all these years he still disliked these gatherings. At least when he was Mayor of Star City he had staff to pay attention to all the details from the other presentations so he could focus solely on his own.  

The worst part was that after his presentation he had to attend a networking dinner, alone. He leaned forward on the conference table and rubbed his temples. It was going to be a long night.

>>>>———————–>>

Friday evening - Star City

“Mom, is it time yet? My tablet says that the sun will set in exactly 6.75 minutes,”  announced the curly haired boy. He looked to his Mom and added, “is Dad back?”

“No sweetie, remember he won’t be back until tomorrow. But let’s wait a few minutes before we get started, okay.“

“Okay Mom, I can wait,” as he walked out of the kitchen.  

A few minutes later Elizabeth made a grand entrance, gliding to a quick stop in her hot pink fuzzy socks.

“Beth, how many time have I told you not to run in here, especially in just your socks.”

“But Mom, I wasn’t running, I was sliding. These socks are the BEST for sliding. I’m practicing. Softball season will be here before you know it. “

“Is all your homework done?”

“Yup, done, well, mostly done. Can I at least pick out my candles?”

“Sure, then go get your brother and we can light the candles.”

Beth skipped to the bookshelves in the living room to grab their two silver menorahs. She carefully placed them in the center of the kitchen island.

“Tommy, come on and pick your candles, Mom said we could,” she yelled.  In a moment Tommy barreled into the kitchen to join his sister.  

“Mom, get the matches.”

‘I’m coming, hang on just a sec kiddos.”

“Beth, why don’t you help your brother with his candles and the blessing,” said Felicity as she lit the bright blue candle in the center of her son’s menorah.

Tommy frowned, “but Mom, I can do it myself, and I’ve been practicing.”

“Okay, why don’t we all say the blessing together.”

Baruch ata Ado-noi Elo-heinu melech ha-olam, Asher kid-shanu bi-mitzvo-sav, Vi-tzee-vanu li-had-leek ner shel Hanukkah.

They each lit their first candle and then replaced the shamash in the center of their menorahs.

“Well Beth, I think it’s time you slide on back to your homework.”

Beth rolled her eyes, “Geez Mom,” as she left the kitchen.

“I wish Dad was here,” said Tommy as he snuggled into his Mother’s side for a hug.

Felicity pulled him close, “I do too, but he’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Yes! Do you think he’ll make latkes for dinner?”

“You can ask him when he gets back, but remember he was going to make them on Sunday when we go over to Grandma Donna’s for lunch. After lunch we’ll go pick out our tree. William is coming. Can you wait until then?”

“I guess so.”

>>>>———————–>>

Felicity curled up on the couch and pulled the green afghan snugly around her body. She watched the reflection of the flickering candles in the windows that ran the length of the wall.  

“Right, just like you said once you went back to work full-time that there would be no late nights.”

His words echoed in her head. There had been too many late nights, he was right. “If only I had had responded to just one of his texts or voicemails,”  she thought. Felicity knew it was way too late to call him now. “I’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning. So much for not going to bed angry,”  she pondered. This would be night number three.

Her attention turned as she heard a key turn in the lock.

Oliver emerged from the darkness as he entered the room, bathed in the fire light.

“I thought you weren’t going to be back until tomorrow.”

“Since I was in Central City I called Barry and asked for a huge favor. I asked him to run me home so I could grovel for my wife’s forgiveness and hopefully sleep in my own bed.”

Oliver took a few more steps toward the couch. He winced a bit and shifted his weight off his right leg.

“Is your knee bothering you again? I can ask Curtis to run some diagnostics on the implant tomorrow.”

“Felicity, it can wait. I’ve been waiting over two days to say I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have ignored your messages. I can’t believe how silly I was. Come on, sit down so you can rest that old knee of yours.”

Oliver slid onto the couch and Felicity pulled over the coffee table to allow him to prop up his leg. He smiled as she slid a throw pillow under his knee, “you’re too good to me.”

“Is this the beginning of the groveling Oliver? If it is I want to get comfortable, because you have quite a bit to do,” she laughed.

Oliver took Felicity’s hand. “I know I broke our cardinal rule to never miss a family holiday unless I am, and I quote, ‘in a coma, kidnapped, or trapped on an alternate earth.’ I’m hoping my very understanding wife, will let this one go, since I am home before the candles have burned out. Besides, there are still seven more nights of Hanukkah to go,” looking up at her with his best puppy-dog impression.

She grinned, “well, maybe I can let it go, just this once, since you are back, but you are so on the hook to make latkes for me and the kids tomorrow night for dinner.”

“I thought I was making those on Sunday over at your Mom’s?”

“You may have made it home before the candles are out, but the kids are already asleep, they really missed lighting the candles with you. But I’ll bet that one batch of latkes and you’ll be back in their good graces.”

She snuggled closer to his side and pulled his already loosened tie free from his neck.  “You were right you know, I have been spending too much at the office since I went back full-time. We agreed that if I went back to a full schedule that I’d also make family time a priority.”

“As much as I love hearing you say I was right,”

Felicity leaned in for a kiss. “Oliver, I missed you, and the kids are asleep.”

He shifted to face her and lifted his hand to caress her cheek. Felicity closed her eyes briefly and leaned into his hand.

“Do you remember our first Hanukkah together?”  

Eyes still closed Felicity broke into a wide grin and nodded, “Mhmm, I remember.”

>>>>———————–>>

December 12, 2017 - First night of Hanukkah

“Felicity, Oliver and William, this was great. Let’s make it a new tradition. I’m so glad I could extend my visit through the beginning of Hanukkah.”

“Definitely Donna, we can host next year, and I’ll cook. Do you have any secret family recipes to share?”

Donna smiled, “I may be able to find a few, but gosh knows, I’ve never made any myself. What are you guys doing tonight?.”

“Tonight, Mom, nothing really.”

“Well do you think William would want to hang out with me for awhile, maybe spend the night. I’d love to spend some extra time with him?”  

“Mom, maybe another time. It’s been a long day and William might have some homework to finish.”

“Nope Felicity. I’m all caught up on my homework. Dad, can I go?” asked William expectantly.

“Come on Oliver, we’ll have fun, and,” Donna dropped her voice a bit as she leaned towards the couple, “I bet the newlyweds could use some more time alone, right.”

“Mom,” glared Felicity, a strong blush rising across her cheeks.

Oliver squeezed her hand beneath the table. “Donna, that would be great, ride back with us and William can grab a few things.”

William rose from the table and headed over to link arms with Donna as they headed out of the restaurant.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“When will my mother stop embarrassing me, never obviously.”

“You’re blushing, it’s cute,” as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

Within seconds of the saying goodbye to Donna and William, the door was shut and Oliver took three giant strides to reach Felicity’s side. Next his hands were around her waist. Felicity wound her hands around his neck to pull him closer. He walked them backwards to the couch and in a well-practiced move he spun them around so that he landed on the couch pulling her right along with him.

“Oliver, wait, shouldn’t we…”

“go to the bedroom… “

“What about Raisa, won’t she be stopping…”

“Nope, I texted her on the way over, told her William was staying with Donna tonight.”

“Oh…”

>>>>———————–>>

Beth peered over the railing across the loft that overlooked the living room. Even though the room was only lit by firelight, she could see her parents huddled close together on the couch.

“Is Dad back?” whispered Tommy.

“Shhh Tommy, be quiet, yes, Dad is home, but he didn’t come up to check up on us yet.”

Tommy moved closer to peek through the railing. “What are they doing?” he asked his sister.

Beth put a finger to his lips in an attempt to silence her curious brother. “Grown up things Tommy. I think this is the perfect time to look for Christmas presents in the hall closet,” she whispered. “Stay quiet come on.”

He looked down into the living room again. His Mom was laughing, and then he saw his Dad grab her and push her down under him on the couch. Beth had already begun to crawl down hallway, anxious to search for the gifts that were likely hidden in the closet, but her brother grabbed her foot to stop her progress.

Tommy was quite confused about what he was saw unfolding on the living room couch. He forgot Beth’s warning to be quiet.

“Why is Dad squishing Mom like that?”

Beth froze, pleading with the universe that her parents hadn’t heard her brother’s question.

Oliver moved off of Felicity and lifted his eyes to the balcony above, “Elizabeth, Thomas, we can hear you, what are you doing up?”

“Your Dad will be up to tuck you in and say goodnight in a minute - back to bed both of you,” added Felicity.

“Jeez Dad, you and your super-ninja hearing,” announced Beth as she pulled Tommy to his feet and pushed him down the hallway toward their bedrooms.

“Well, so much for the kids being asleep, it’s probably for the best, your hearing may still be ninja-like, but your knee not so much,” said Felicity as she patted his knee and rose from the couch.

He moved quickly to join her at the foot of the stairs. “I’ll just be a minute tucking the kids in and then I’ll show you just how ninja-like I still am.”

Felicity smiled and planted a quick kiss to his lips before heading upstairs. Oliver was glad they wouldn’t be spending another night apart. Arguments did happen from time to time, but they were always resolved. If he was being honest, he would probably admit that he looked forward to the occasional argument, especially when it would be followed by making up. That never got old.

>>>>———————–>>

Notes:

I know there are multiple candle blessings for Hanukkah - but the one listed in the the story is the one we do in our house. Hanukkah is a great family holiday - it is soothing to watch the candles burn - you can make yummy latkes (basically fried potatoes) - and play dreidel (yes, a game of chance).  Some years it gets hectic at our house when Hanukkah and Christmas overlap since we celebrate both holidays. The shamash is the ‘helper’ candle. It is lit first and is used to light the other candles.

Translation of the Hanukkah candle blessing: Blessed are You, the Lord our God, King of the universe, Who sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to kindle the Hanukkah light.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

[roxy-davenport]

Eight Days of Winchester

Title: Eight Days of Winchester

Prompt: Jewish/Hanukkah/ For @saxxxology’s SPN Holiday Challenge

Word Count: 5,534 (Whoops)

Warnings: None

A/N: Fluff, Young Dean, Young Reader, Young Sam. This is told in the reader’s POV. I huge thanks to my beta @dr-dean for letting me pick your brain about Hannukah. You were a very thorough and awesome beta answering every single question I had. Thank you so much.

Also on A03

Day 1

 My mom invited this guy over to dinner. She barely even knows him but I can tell she likes him already. It’s been awhile since she found someone she liked. I promised her I’d be on my best behavior. She informs me the man has two very handsome sons -- she’s seen pictures apparently. I had an eye roll so epic I think my eyes actually rolled all the way back into my skull. But I put on my favorite dress just in case she wasn’t lying. I didn’t hold out much hope. My mom insisted the boys all come over and taste some good home cooking. The man, John I think she said his name was, said he wasn’t much of a cook and so mom insisted they come over. The holidays were supposed to be family time but I couldn’t hold it against mom. If this guy made her happy, I could give him a chance.

 Mom got out the Hanukkah menorah along with the candles. I always thought the menorah looked pretty with colored candles.

 “You remember why there are eight days to Hanukah, right?”

 I rolled my eyes yet again.

 “Yep, I remember. The eight branches represent the eight nights.”

My mother grilled me every year -- as if I could ever forget. Who needs religious classes when you got mommy dearest, right?

 “In Hebrew the word “Hanukkah” means “dedication.” The name reminds us that this holiday commemorates the re-dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem after the Jewish victory over the Syrian-Greeks in 165 B.C.E. The Syrian-Greeks had seized the Jewish temple and dedicated it to the worship of the god Zeus. The Jewish people resisted being forced to worship a false god and give up what it meant to be Jewish. If anyone practiced Judaism they would be given the death penalty. So Jewish rebels, the Maccabees, retook the temple to “purify” it by burning ritual oil in the Temple for eight days. They only had a small amount of oil which could only really last for only one day but surprisingly it lasted eight days so we now we celebrate that miracle. And because of this, the menorah in synagogues must always be lit; it must always have an eternal flame. You’re better than any religious school.”

 Mom chuckled.

 “The one candle that’s higher than the rest is called the Shamash, or helper candle, and that’s the candle you use to light the others.“

 My mom looked impressed that I actually remembered everything.

 “We have to light the candles right after sunset. If they’re late we’ll have to do it without them.” I told her hoping that we wouldn’t have to celebrate Hanukkah with strangers.

 “They won’t be late. I don’t know if John has ever taken part in Hanukah before.”

 “He’s not Jewish?”

 “No he’s not Jewish, but you should have seen his face when I asked him to celebrate with us. He was practically beaming. The poor man must be so lonely. It’s a shame his wife died. He’s such a good man. And besides, dear, we’re reform Jewish. If we were orthodox dating a goy (non-Jew) couldn’t be done.”

 My mother was so happy at sharing a tradition with a man she barely knew. Maybe my mom was as lonely as this John man. Maybe they could make each other happy. She was totally head over heels for the guy even though he didn’t see her an awful lot every month. This John character kept leaving to go off on “jobs.”

 Hello! Red flag right there, mom! He’s probably in the mob or a cheat. I mean how else could you explain the long absences? Maybe he even had another family somewhere. But I wouldn’t do anything until she came to the same conclusion. I’d play nice and get to know him until then.

 A ring at the door signaled their arrival. My mom tidied up her appearance, fixing her hair and her makeup. Mom opened the door beaming at John. I stood behind her my face not giving anything away. John smiled at me as he extended his hand to me.

 “You must be Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 “It’s nice to meet you, too, John,” I answered back somewhat sweetly.

 He had a firm handshake and a very friendly maybe too friendly smile. There was movement behind him and my eyes darted to behind his back. John introduced me to his sons, Sam and Dean. One was very shy and small but sweet. He shook my hand rather nervously might I add. The other boy was older and taller and he just winked at me. I shivered at the feeling, excitement coursing through my 18-year-old body. He spelled danger. And for me, a girl who never left the small town I grew up in or got into any trouble, this boy spelled a different, more fun kind of life. That wink spoke volumes to me.

 I haven’t even kissed a guy yet much less made out with one. Dean looked very experienced to me. I gulped nervously in his presence. Dean noticed and smirked back at me. Self-righteous prick. He was infuriating and sexy all at the same time. I never liked any of the boys in school. Then again boys like Dean never attended my school.

 Mom brought out the menorah and placed it on the table along with the kosher candles. Dean and Sam were intrigued to see what was going to happen. Dean of course took this moment to get closer to me this time his eyes roving up and down my figure. I rolled my eyes at him. This boy had only one thing on the brain. He was hot yeah but come on a girl needs more than just hotness. Or does she?

 Mother and I placed the candles in their respective places in the menorah. Mom used the match to light the Shamash, the candle in the middle first. I then took that candle and lit the one next to it before placing it back in the middle. My mom recited the blessings as a way to pay respect to God and our Jewish ancestors.

 “Adonai , shehekheyanu, v’kiyamanu vehegianu lazman hazeh.”

 You and your mother both said, “Amen” at the same time. Your mother smiled at you before addressing the guests at the table motioning everyone to sit down and eat.

 I could feel his eyes on me the entire dinner. To make matters worse my mom talked about me. I hate being the center of attention. I know it’s normal for moms to want to brag about their kids but with them? Ugh. At the mention of stellar grades, all eyes were on me. I looked down at the floor, blushing profusely.

 Sam perked up at the mention of good grades. He started engaging me in conversation about literature and homework. I went from being shy to outgoing in a couple of minutes. This Sam boy made me feel comfortable. I found out he wrote stories and so did I. He told me he would make sure to bring some of his next time when he saw me. I in turn promised to hand him some of mine. I was so excited to show someone my stories and read his. You can find out a lot about a person through what they choose to write about.

 Dean didn’t miss the exchange between his brother and me. He was making grumbly sounds throughout. I just chose to ignore his rather puerile behavior. He was probably grumpy that his brother was not only talking to me but responsible for my smile.

 As if that’s my fault. Dean got really moody and quiet, picking at the food on his plate. I liked Dean, I really did. I just bonded intellectually with Sam -- no biggie.

 I tried to engage Dean in talk about books or other things. I didn’t find anything in common with him, but I wanted to. I couldn’t explain it but I felt drawn to him like a magnet.

 “Thank you, John, for coming during the holidays. It’s nice to celebrate with more than just the two of us.”

 “It’s been awhile since I celebrated the holidays myself and I’m glad my boys can get some culture in.”

 Mom smiled at John before turning to me, handing me a present. I smiled at her. Dean raised his eyebrow at me.

 “We get one of these everyday.”

 Blushing I reached out to quickly grab the gift. I felt awkward opening it in front of everyone, but my mom’s warm smile egged me on.

 “Wait, you get eight days worth of presents? Dad, can we be Jewish?”

 “Dean!” John said forcefully in a hushed voice.

 I stuck out my tongue at Dean. He in turn rolled his eyes. On top of the present I got delicious little chocolates called gelt that looked like coins wrapped in a gold foil. The main present was THE game I wanted for my Playstation 4. Sam’s eyes went wide when he saw that. Dean groaned. They left soon after that, John saying that his boys needed some sleep.

 Day 2

 The second they came, mom ran to hug John and grab the menorah. Mom placed the candles in the menorah from right to left and then lit the shamesh, the candle in the middle. I then lifted the shamesh out of the menorah and lit one candle before passing the shamesh to Dean who lit another candle. Mom showed Dean where the shamesh belonged on the menorah.

 I started to blush at the intense stare he was giving me. Mother closed her eyes and started chanting.

 “Baruch Atah adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvitav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukah. Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.”

 Everyone said, “Amen.”

 We all smiled and took our respective seats at the table. The more I talked with Sam, the more Dean slumped in his seat across from me. Sam and I just had so many things in common. I had no idea why Dean was being so dramatic. I didn’t like his brother like that. Sam was cute but I wanted Dean.

 “Y/N. Could you pass me the…”

 “The potato latkes? Sure Dean.”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, those.”

 “They’re really good, right?”

 “Man, I could eat these every day.” Dean confessed.

 “Wait till you try my mom’s homemade cherry blintzes. They are out of this world.”

 Dean’s face lit up at the talk of food. It was then that I learned the way to his heart. Thankfully, my mom had taught me how to cook.

 I fell into an easy conversation again with Sam but took quick glances at Dean who always smiled back at me.

 After dinner was finished, I opened my present and found another PlayStation game. This time Dean didn’t groan. Instead he watched my face light up and he smiled. He wanted to stay and talk to me but his father insisted they leave. You gave Dean half of your chocolate gelt, 5 pieces to be exact.

 “For good luck,” I told him.

 He slipped one into his mouth closing his eyes as the taste.

 “This is delicious.”

 Dean couldn’t stop smiling as he waved good-bye to me.

  Day 3

 John didn’t come today. He said he had to take the boys a few towns over to their aunt who had just given birth. Of course, I understood and my mom and I were happy for the new baby in their family. But I missed Dean. It wasn’t the same without him. I barely knew him and I missed him already.

 I lit the menorah adding another candle. I looked at the candles seeing just candles. When Dean was there, they looked like amazing lights. They made his face sparkle almost. He seemed so fascinated by the whole ritual. I was swept up in how he saw it.

 I sat there with my mom talking about school, nothing important but she noticed I was a bit apathetic. I didn’t smile like I did when Dean was there.

 I ate my chocolate by myself opening my present and smiling. It was the DVD of a movie I was dying to see. I was overjoyed and ran to my room to watch it, forgetting about Dean for the moment.

 Day 4

 I literally ran home from school smiling, only to find two place settings on the dining room table and not five. No Dean tonight, either.

 I went through the motions again lighting another candle and saying the prayer. Hannukah wasn’t as much fun without Dean.

 I was starting to get worried that maybe John had really left town not just away on a visit. He said he would be back by now. He called mom when we were having dinner and assured her that the boys would be there the next day. He sounded sure on the phone so I chose to believe it, looking forward to the possibility of seeing Dean.

 The present I got was a gorgeous silk scarf, the kind my mother said I had to be older to wear. I guess I was old enough.

 “I see the way you face lights up when he’s here. I see the way he looks at you. As much as I hate it, my baby girl is growing up.  And older girls need nice scarves, grown-up scarves. Dean is a fine boy to pick by the way.”

 I blushed and looked down at the ground. Mom smiled and kissed my forehead. I fall asleep with a smile on my face knowing that tomorrow Dean would be there.

 Day 5

 The second the door opened I looked over at Dean. He looked exhausted and he had a cut on his cheek. He was wearing long sleeves but he kept itching his arm. I glanced down when he lifted it up a bit to scratch noticing a deep cut. He followed my gaze and covered up his arm quickly. His father glared at him, which made Dean shrink. John then looked my way but I ignored the patriarch and instead hugged Dean. He was surprised by my actions before he hugged me back slowly, tentatively as if I’d run away. After a few seconds he smiled and sighed into my arms. I stepped back and looked sheepishly at him. He winked at me and whispered in my ear before walking into my apartment, “I’m fine, honey. It’s just a cut.”

He looked me up and down and I did the same.

 The two of us didn’t notice what our parents were doing or saying. We were in our own world. Dean only noticed that they were holding hands so he reached out to hold mine smiling at me. Sam cleared his throat feeling awkward. Dean tried to withdraw his hand not wanting to make his brother feel awkward but I grabbed onto his hand and wouldn’t let go. I turned to Sam and handed him one of my stories.

 “Oh man I’m so sorry I--.”

“No need to apologize, Sam. You’ll bring them when you can. I’d love to know what you think of my story. I really hope you like it.”

 “I would be happy to read it. Thanks.”

 I nodded at Sam who suddenly seemed to be more comfortable in the room. Dean smiled at me noticing the change in his brother.

 Mom lit the shamesh and you and Dean were tasked with lighting the rest of the candles. You divided up the task moving from left to right. Mom said the prayer, which always ended in a unison, “Amen.”

 The two boys ate almost all the food on the table. I stared at them confused. Didn’t their father feed them? I mean mom was a great cook but really?

 As I did every time, I gave half of my chocolate to Dean. He shook his head but I placed it in his palm and closed his fingers around it.

 “I’m Jewish, Dean. This is my thing. I get Hanukah gelt every year. There are 10 pieces here. Share it with me. Your family never gets them. Enjoy it.”

 Sam raised his eyebrows at me about to say something but Dean made a face and Sam backed away. He looked away sheepishly. Dean looked down at the chocolate in his hand and gave Sam two of his pieces. Sam’s face light up, his fingers anxiously ripping off the gold fold and putting them both into his mouth. His eyes grew wide tasting how delicious they were.

 I opened my present to find one of your favorite books, The Girl Who Owned the City.

 “You like books?”

 I looked over at Dean confused by his comment. So he doesn’t like books? Who doesn’t like books, I wondered. “This isn’t just any book Dean. This is a book about a virus that wipes out all the adults leaving children to run the world. It’s a feminist apocalypse sci-fi book. You should read it. You might like it.”

 “I’m not too big on horror or apocalyptic worlds. This world is scary enough.”

 I frown at his comment. That’s a bit dark for a 19-year-old to say. What kinds of things had he seen? Before I can ask what he meant, his father suddenly pushes Dean out of the door. I put the offhanded comment out of my mind not thinking anymore about it.

 Day 6

 We lit the menorah together before mom said the prayer.

 Dean’s eyes are on me during the whole dinner, completely distracting me and making me feel flustered. I didn’t notice the conversation John was having with my mother or how much closer they’d gotten. I do hear her laugh and it’s been so long since she even smiled.

 When I open my present I see it’s another video game I really wanted. I’m so happy and beg mom to let them stay over. Smiling she looked over at John silently begging him to say yes.

 When John nodded, the boys run up the stairs to my bedroom. I ran close behind them. I put the game in and immediately searched for multiplayer options. I handed Dean a black controller. He glanced at me like I was crazy.

 “You’re playing with us, Dean. Basically kick the bad guys asses.”

 “Oh honey, I can definitely do that. I have training in that.”

 Sam turns around and glares at his brother. Dean just shrugs. I watched the exchange completely confused.

 Reaching over Dean’s lap I place my hand on his controller. “You press this for a punch, this for a kick. This button is for a combo and this is to block.”

 Dean’s eyes glazed over at all the different buttons but once we started playing he got the hang of it, He cheered and groaned along with us. We were having so much fun we didn’t hear footsteps behind us. Mom told me that she found John just watching us. Creepy much? Mom joined in and they both watched us play games and smile. Even creepier. Thanks for telling me, mom. She even said, “When you’re a grown-up you’ll understand.” Whatever that means.

 Day 7

 Dean came to dinner dressed very nicely. I blushed when I saw him at the door. I was very happy that I had chosen a lace dress to wear.

 “I love a girl in lace,” Dean said suggestively.

 “And look at you. No more plaid lumberjack shirts but instead a leather coat and nice pants. You clean up nice, Winchester.”

 Dean blushed profusely and Sam laughed. Dean elbowed him to be quiet.

 Dean helped me light the menorah and even tried to pronounce the Hebrew words mom said.

 The second we sat down, Sam got my attention. He had a big smile on his face and a bunch of papers in his hands.

 “I just wanted to say that I love your stories, Y/N.”

 “Really?” you inquired, your eyes as wide as saucers.

 “Yeah they’re super creative. I brought mine this time.”

 “And I brought another story,” you added.

 “Awesome. I can’t wait to read it, Y/N.”

 “Same here, Sam.”

 The rest of the conversation with Sammy was about his stories. No one had ever taken an interest in your writing. I mean your mom did but she was your mom. That didn’t count. This was a boy taking an interest in you. I talked about the deeper themes in my stories and asked him about the themes in his writing.

 Dean didn’t feel jealous that I was talking to Sam. No moaning or growling from Dean’s side of the table. He simply beamed at me, happy and amazed that I could fit so well into his life.

 I watched him carefully after all the cryptic things he’d said in recent days. There was sadness in his eyes that night. I always thought it weird how I could read Dean so well. If soul mates existed maybe that would explain it. I don’t know how but I could feel guilt wafting off him in waves.

 This time I opened my small bag of gelt up and let Dean take as much as he wanted. Mom gave me my present, which I then shook trying to figure out what it was. It made a soft clicking sound.

 “A CD?”

 Mom shrugged.

 I tore open the wrapping paper and saw it was the album, Back in Black from AC/DC.

 “You love AC/DC?” Dean inquired.

 “Who doesn’t like classic rock?”

 “I’ve been trying to get Sam to enjoy more classic rock.”

 “I’d enjoy it more if you didn’t listen to it on repeat all the time.”

 Dean rolled his eyes.

 “Let’s listen to it upstairs?”

 I quickly nodded running up the stairs after him.

 “Door open kids.” Mom called out.

 “Yeah, Mom.”

 Sam took the hint and stayed downstairs. Glancing back, I saw him starting on his homework.

 The second that we got into my room I put on the album. I turned towards Dean. I was nervous so I closed my eyes and just listened to the music, letting it guide my movements. I danced in front of him occasionally opening my eyes to see Dean staring at me hungrily. He slowly walked me backwards into the wall. He put his hands on either side of my head as he looked down at me. I gulped trying to avoid eye contact. I was way too nervous for that so I stared at his chest. He carefully moved one of his hands from the wall to guide my chin up making eye contact with me.

 “Why so nervous, doll?”

 “I’ve never kissed a boy?”

 “Never? How is that possible? I would have thought boys would jump at the chance to kiss you.”

 “What school do you go to again?”

Dean chuckled. His hand slowly moved to my cheek as he caressed it. I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch.

 “That’s it, baby. Relax. I got you.”

 With my eyes still closed, I felt his face get closer and closer to mine, his forehead grazing mine. I felt his lips on my lips. Dean kissed me gently, carefully, almost reverently. He slowly moved his tongue inside my mouth cautiously playing with my tongue. My hands moved to his hair to hold him there. He took that as a sign and deepened the kiss, moving his tongue more inside my mouth. When we needed air he slowly disconnected his lips from mine. His thumb caressed my cheek. He stared into my eyes and I saw so much feeling there. He nibbled my bottom lip and my eyes fluttered closed.

 Dean and I heard a creak from the floorboards next to us. I saw him reaching into his pants to get what looked like a weapon out. Why does he have a weapon? His father cleared his throat and Dean’s hands fell suddenly to his side.

 “We gotta go, Dean.”

 Dean doesn’t argue with his father. I shivered silently at the harsh tone in which John speaks to his son. Before Dean leaves he kisses my forehead and smiles so mournfully. With several lingering glances he walked down the stairs away from me. John nodded at me and leaves quietly with the boys. I collapsed on the bed still high from that amazing kiss. If only John hadn’t interrupted us.

 Day 8

 Dean came over as usual. But everyone seemed uneasy, anxious even; their gaze never on me or my mother for too long.

 I lit the last candles for Hanukkah. Me, Dean, and mom said the Hebrew prayer.

 Dean looked at me sadly. I had no idea what was going on but with each passing second, I felt like I was dying. I could feel Dean pulling away. It was getting harder to breath.

 Moments later John shattered my world by saying that they had to move. I blinked continuously trying to blink away my tears, which Dean noticed. He looked more pained than before.

 The first decent guy to come along and make me feel amazing and then he has to leave? How cruel was fate?

 At that exact moment, the windows of my home were broken by some sort of creature. The creature was snarling at me. Mom ran away screaming. I stood my ground and started throwing things at it. Then I noticed another monster. The monster started barreling towards me. Dean acted fast tackling it to the ground. He gave the monster a hard kick making its head land painfully on the coffee table. Dean got up quickly grabbing you and ushering you into the kitchen.

 “We need silver. It’s a werewolf.”

 I didn’t ask any questions, I was beyond frightened and his voice commanded authority. I grabbed all the utensils and ran out into the living room with Dean. He threw two knives to Sam and John. I in turn threw a bunch of stuff at the monster, which distracted it. I clutched my knife focusing every ounce of strength I had into killing this werewolf. I thought about all the kids that teased me, all the bad stuff that happened, and channeled that anger. I pushed it backwards against the wall. I maneuvered under its claws and jammed the knife into its heart. It tried to scratch me as it was dying but I jumped high and rolled away from it.

 Everyone stared at me. John and Sam had already killed the other werewolf. Mom ran to me hugging and kissing me. The boys kept staring at me. I withdrew from my mother and walked over to Dean.

 “What the hell was that?” I nearly screamed at him.

 “I could ask you the same thing,” Dean answered back.

 “I take self defense classes, one. Two we lived in a very dangerous neighborhood when I grew up. So I learned how to fight at an early age. And three, I’m awesome. Thanks for noticing.”

 “Yes, you really are.” Dean said awestruck.

 Dean didn’t hesitate and grabbed the back of my head cramming his lips on mine. This wasn’t like the kiss before. This was passionate and rough. This was to show emotion, not to comfort a scared girl. I was no longer the scared, innocent, wide-eyes girl I was before. I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him back just as passionately. My eyes fluttered open when his lips left mine.

 Dean practically growled.

 “I’m not leaving Y/N behind, dad. You saw what she did. I’m telling her and I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He said the last part to me holding my hand.

 John was about to say something when I spoke up.

 “Tell me what?”

 “Dean!” John warned.

 Ignoring his father Dean spilled the beans. “We hunt monsters. That was a werewolf. Our mom died from a monster, a demon actually and we as a family hunt monsters. We keep the world safe. And we have to leave. There’s a town two hours away. Five people have already died. It’s definitely a monster. Possibly a ghost. We can’t stay here. When dad said we were visiting our aunt that gave birth? That was a lie. We were on a ghoul hunt that took longer than anticipated.”

 “Your family hunts monsters?” It made sense. His cryptic comments; the sadness, the cuts, the gun, everything made sense now.

 “Yeah I know that’s--.”

 “Hunting monsters, saving people the family business…that’s awesome.”

 Dean was shocked.

 “And you want me to come?”

 “Yes Y/N I really do.”

 “Give me a moment. One moment.”

 I nibbled Dean’s lower lip before smiling back at him. I turn to my mom walking with her into the kitchen. She hugged me handing me a large book bag.

 “I heard everything honey. I may not like it but I know I have to let you go. You’re an adult now you can make you own decisions. I know how you feel about Dean and the way you fought. That was incredible. You weren’t afraid -- you acted decisively. I knew in that moment you would be leaving and I packed your favorite things. You are meant to go with them and save the world. John was never meant to be mine. I was meant to meet him so you could meet your beshert, the one you are fated to love, Dean. I’m terrified. It’s so dangerous but if monsters really do exist, someone has to protect people like me. You were meant for this Y/N. Go with them and know I love you always. You better call me regularly.”

 I cried as I held onto my mom. I never thought she would be so understanding. She was right, though, I belonged with the Winchesters.

 Dean was trying to stall. His father didn’t want to take me with them and they were furiously arguing. I could hear them all the way in the kitchen.

 I threw my book bag in the backseat and turned to Dean. “Thanks for stalling, Dean. Mr. Winchester, I know I’m only 18 but I choose this life and I don’t need a lecture from anyone. I am technically an adult. I planned on taking a few years off before going to college anyway. Get some life experience. I could have died from the Werewolf that must have followed you. I could have run away like my mom did and waited for you guys to swoop in, but I didn’t. We all could have died. Your sons included. But what happened? I saved everyone. And if you don’t take me, I’ll give Dean my number and go out on my own hunting monsters. Your choice.”

 “I can’t be responsible for you.”

 “You’re not, John. I’m responsible for me. I choose this life. This is my choice, come what may.”

 “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

 “So what? I go back to my normal life? Forget about Dean? Forget about how I feel? I can’t do that. You can’t ask me to do that. I finally find someone I care about and you rip us apart? I finally feel like I am meant to be somewhere and you tell me to go back to a sheltered life? Too late, Mr. Winchester. I belong here, I know how to fight and I promise you that I am making this choice. I don’t want to live an ordinary safe live and have a nine-to-five job. I want more. I want to be a hero like Dean.”

John groans, closing his eyes momentarily. When he opens them, they bore into you. It feels like he’s looking into your soul or something.

 I pointed to the house.

 “Go inside and speak with my mom, please. She has the right to send me with you. Please talk to her.”

 Dean grabbed his father’s arm pleading with him. “Y/N could do research. Only research. No hunting. She stays back. I will make sure of that. You, me, and Sammy go hunting.”

 I nodded agreeing with Dean. I would do anything to go with them.

 John looked between the two of us and then walked over to the house. John was in the kitchen for an hour arguing with mom while Dean and I were making out in the backseat of the car. Sam sat as far away from us as possible.

 By the time John came back, he sighed heavily looking back at the two of you. You stopped mid kiss looking back at him.

 “Well, looks like you’re an honorary Winchester Y/N. Call me John.”

 “Well John, my mom’s one stubborn lady when she decides something and so am I.”

 “I can see that.”

 “But you’re doing research. Dean will train you but no hunting until you can outsmart him and he’s been hunting since he was a child so that’s a tall order. No arguments or I’ll turn this car around. “

 “You’ll receive no arguments from me.”

 And just like I sped off to my new life as a hunter finally feeling like I belonged.

 Tagging

Forevers: @purgatoan, @killerofthesouth, @charliebradbury1104, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @chelsea072498, @everday-supernatural-af, @kalliravennee, @toogardenenthusiast, @winchesterprincessbride, @one-shots-supernatural, @take-me-tonirvana, @hellsmother, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @faegal04, @deals-with-demons, @mamaredd123, @atc74, @hamartiamacguffin

Dean Folks from my list: @ellen-reincarnated1967, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @buckymetallicstump, @faith-in-dean, @bennyyh, @ruprecht0420 @supernatural-jackles, @jesspfly, @webcricket

@aprofoundbondwithdean, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @dr-dean, @nichelle-my-belle, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @thegreatficmaster, @salvachester, @blushingsamgirl, @bkwrm523, @whispersandwhiskerburn, @lipstickandwhiskey, @impala-dreamer, @samsgoddess, @frenchybell, @scorpiongirl1, @for-the-love-of-dean, @cici0507, @fiveleaf, @deansleather, @curliesallovertheplace, @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname, @waywardjoy, @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious, @kayteonline, @supernatural-jackles, @idreamofhazel, @wevegotworktodo, @ilovedean-spn2 , @quiddy-writes, @wi-deangirl77, @deantbh, @mysaintsasinner, @chelsea-winchester, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @fandommaniacx, @teamfreewillimagines, @deanwinchesterforpromqueen, @castieltrash1, @supernaturallyobsessed, @memariana91, @writingbeautifulmen, @captain-princess-rose, @plaidstiel-wormstache, @idreamofhazel, @revwinchester, @supermoonpanda, @ageekchiclife, @i-dont-know-how-to-write, @vintagevalentinexx, @ohwritever, @ruinedbydestiel, @winchester-writes, @mysupernaturalfics, @thinkwritexpress, @sammit-janet @bowtiesandapplepie, @itsemmyb, @ezauraemmaline, @matteson-crazed, @castielspahdehrah, @charliesbackbitches, @crzcorgi, @gryffindorable713, @deerlululucy, @walkingencyclopediaoffandom, @MrsJohnSmith, @manawhaat, @growleytria, @thegleegeneration, @samtomydeanwinchester, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @i-never-said-a-pilot, @thewinchestielboys, @supermoonpanda, @sis-tafics, @amaranthinecastiel, @kittenofdoomage, @samanddeanwinchester67, @prettyxwickedxthings, @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien, @myfand0msandm0re, @olitzisbae, @iridianuniverse, @the-morning-star-falls,  @shortandlongstories, @strange-inhumanity, @ackleslaugh @noisilyyoungpuppy, @fangirling-instead-of-working, @eyes-of-a-disney-princess, @chrisatplay, @kayteonline, @spnsimpleman, @faith-in-dean, @gimmethepieandnoonegetshurt, @for-the-love-of-dean, @mamaimpala, @winchesterfiesta, @zanthiasplace, @sleep-silent-angel, @pada-ackles-reads, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @gadreelsforbiddenfruit, @trenchcoats-and-bees, @curliesallovertheplace, @jencharlan, @not-so-natural-spn, @skybinx-blog, @thebunkerismyhome, @feelmyroarrrr, @beachy2014, @fandom-book-nerd, @tia58, @@sams-little-toy, @sunriserose1023, @saving-things-hunting-family, @winchesterswoonathon, @jotink78, @lucifer-in-leather,  @babypieandwhiskey, @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave, @supernatural-jackles, @avasmommy224, @angelwingsandsupernaturalthings, @mysaintsasinner, @chelsea-winchester, @spn-fan-girl-173, @besslincoln-bruh, @wheresthekillswitch, @shelovesallthethings @maraisabellegrey, @notnaturalanahi