Chuck remembers last Christmas.
People were over the panic and fear of kaiju attacks, and it was the most jubilant Christmas celebration Sydney had in years.
The Hansens never properly celebrated Christmas after the first attack on Sydney.
There was a pitiful little tree in the corner of their room, dying in the sweltering heat. They had the day off, but neither had anything to do. Eventually Chuck went out, just to get out of the stifling silence and heat of the room.
This year is different.
For the first time he can remember, Chuck is going to a Christmas party and he plans on enjoying himself.
Everyone is back together again-Jaeger pilots, decommissioned or not, get paid well, and the airfare to the Hong Kong shatterdome is nothing. Pentecost is uptight for all of five minutes before Raleigh fills him so full of alcohol that Chuck has never seen anyone more drunk. At least; he's never seen anyone more hilarious drunk.
Even as the night wears on, co-pilots stick near each other. It's less to do with socializing and everything to do with the last remnants of the drift still in their minds. They are connected to each other, even while they're out of the machines, and the drunker they are the tighter they cling to each other.
Yancy takes a page from the Wei triplets and languishes between Raleigh and Mako, more than happy to let them hold him up, until Pentecost demands to be part of the chain and they nearly collapse onto Raleigh, who appears to be the only one sober. Aleksis and Sasha are increasingly affectionate, and their quiet giggling bubbles up now and then.
Chuck gets more and more drunk, and relies more and more on his father's legs because his seem to be getting more and more unstable.
"Why," he slurs, looking at his dad's second head, "have I never got sloshed before?" He giggles and nuzzles his head against the crook of his neck.
Hercules wraps an arm around Chuck, pulling him more upright. "If I'd known you were such a lightweight I'd have gotten you drunk sooner."
"'M-'M not a lightweight," Chuck insists. "'M a heavyweight champion. Took down eleven whole kaiju baddies."
"Thirteen," Hercules reminds him, but Chuck shakes his head.
"Eleven," he says. "You-you weren't there for the last two. Don't count." He tries standing on his own two feet for all of five seconds before slumping against his father again. "We-you 'n me-we're a-a team, y'know?"
Last Christmas, maybe, Hercules might have said You're drunk. This year, however, he rubs his knuckles into the top of Chuck's head. "Yes, boy, I know."