Christmas Eve, NC 1999

-Yours Truly, Emily

When I was younger, my dad and I always visited the cemetery on Christmas Eve. He still always does, spending more time with them, Grandma Emily, whom I was named after, and Grandpa Barnaby, if he didn't get the opportunity to visit very often during the year. When I was a little girl, dressed in a light pink winter coat and a white scarf with hot pink bunnies - one of Uncle Kotetsu's many jokes about my dad - I'd always carry this great white bouquet of carnations and Stars of Bethlehem and lilies.

I visited on occasion, but the last few years, I'd left him to this intimate... ceremony. Around the time I turned eleven, four years ago, it finally registered just how conflicting of a day today was, and how intimate this ritual of bringing flowers and visiting his parents on the anniversary of their death really was. After that year, which I spent standing awkwardly and out-of-place the entire time while he happily caught the deceased up on the events in his life, I decided it was a better left as a day I gave to him, for just himself time. But still, I made it a point to visit them at some point, usually after attending the party uncle Nathan threw every year and forced my dad to go to, and add my own favorite flower to the bouquet of remembrance and hope. I would even sit there and talk to them for a bit - mostly about my dad, but I sometimes talked about some boy I thought was cute (and I have high standards) and funny. But mostly Dad. How he was doing, what he was doing, especially now that he had retired from the Hero business. He had finally decided to get into robotics, and it just clicked naturally for him. Currently, he was one of the leading roboticists in the lab, and also working at Hero Academy as a professor for robotics (yes, there were kids who greatly benefited from this class in particular) and over-all Hero-ing.

Today was a little different, and it must have surprised my dad when I hopped into the passenger seat, two light pink gladioli in hand and my new white scarf with pink bunnies on (another gift from Kotetsu, since I loved my old one so much). He didn't comment on it, just smiled a little and drove us to the cemetery. We both remained comfortably quiet on the drive there.

I turned my attention out the window, watching the muffled world pass us by. Several taxis were out, and many people driving home from work back to home, or from home to the home of a relative for the holiday coming up. Very few were doing as my father and I were, heading to the cemetery to visit late-relatives. The Heroes, now including a mostly new cast, including Kaede who went by Tigress after her dad, might be called out tonight. The seniors, or original cast members, were Blue Rose, who would be leaving after this season to fully pursue her career as a singer (with or with out her alias), and Dragon Kid, who would tough out a few more seasons before moving on to open up her own Kung Fu dojo here in Sternbild, possibly close to or even at Hero Academy.

The red and green lights of the city passed oddly quickly, and the white snow-covered grass of the cemetery soon replaced my view.

It was a familiar view of gravestones lined after gravestone, draped in snow blankets.

My dad opened his door, grabbing his all-white bouquet of flowers off of the dashboard, adjusted his glasses, and stepped out. I followed in suit, although bypassing two stages - grabbing my flowers, as they were in my hand, and adjusting my non-existent glasses (thankfully, my mother had good eyesight unlike a certain someone) - and got out after him. He was waiting for me a few feet from the car, a faint trace of a smile gracing his features, before we headed down the rows of headstones.

It was second nature to the both of us by now. We maneuvered through the maze of graves without paying very much attention, always carefully avoiding stepping on Mark Thomas' grave, stopping beside Samantha Taylor's resting place for a moment, which my dad left with three less flowers. His talking to her was very intimate - he talked about the cake she used to make him for all of his birthdays, and that quickly escalated to himself apologizing profusely for her death, as he somehow felt that if he hadn't contacted her about his memories, she would still be alive (at which point I crouched down next to him and leaned my head on his shoulder, ignoring my wavy caramel hair as it fell in front of my eyes) - and thus made me feel slightly awkward, just standing (and crouching) there with nothing to say to either my dad or the headstone.

We continued on to my grandparents' graves, the beautifully handled headstone shared for both of them marking their resting place and residence. In a few short moments, my dad was kneeling in the snow, whilst placing his flowers before their names. I followed suit, settling next to him, and added my gladioli to the white flowers.

After a few short minutes of contemplative silence, my dad broke it:

"They would have adored you."

I raised my brows and looked at him in surprise. Slowly, my eyebrows knit in confusion at the sudden statement (I forced them back up, having recently noticed they did that quite often).

"When you were six, you asked me if they would have liked you." He offered, turning his head to look at me thoughtfully. "You seemed really upset about it at the time."

"Oh." I vaguely remembered that. I guess I was, and still am, with whether or not my family would've loved me if they were around. My mom died in labor - which made my dad all that much more afraid of losing me - and her own parents had died in a car accident when she was twelve. Neither my mom or my dad had any siblings, or cousins that I knew of, so it really was just my dad and I.

With out realizing it, I bit my bottom lip and turned my gaze downwards.

It wasn't until my dad wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer, habitually pressing a kiss to the top of my head (not that I mind, but come on Dad, I'm a sophomore this year!) that I noticed I was trying not to cry. I sniffled a couple of times, and he moved so that his cheek was resting atop my curls (which I totally got from him, judging by the wedding pictures of him and my mom that I've seen). "Your mother loved you too, even before you were born."

Not-crying that time proved impossible, but I bit back the sob; I don't know what it was bout sobbing in particular, but I didn't like doing it.

I didn't particularly like listening to it either, but if it was one of the other Hero's kids, my close circle of friends, I'd make an exception. Sometimes I'd make an exception if the person just looked that upset, and like they just needed some company - to cry on or just simply have there. What ever suited a person.

I shivered, partially from the cold (the tears slipping down my cheeks were rapidly cooling and becoming quite cold), partially from trying not to sob, and leaned closer to my dad. He was warm and comforting, even when he wasn't sure how to be comforting (even I'll admit that being a single father has thrown some strange curve-balls and fastballs at him. Luckily, the girls, Nathan, Karina, and Pao-Lin, were there to back him up when it counted, otherwise my life would be full of awkward conversations about Sex Ed from my dad).

He tightened his arm around me and just held me there, not saying anything. I didn't blame him, at this point, he probably didn't know what to say - but nothing needed to be said. It was one of those precious moments where the silence of one's company was the greatest comfort.

I twisted my torso to wrap my arms around him, causing him to twist around and adjust his position so that he was sitting with one leg propped up so that he could hug me tighter.

We stayed like that for a while (and I was going to apologize to my dad for making him sit in the snow later), with me occasionally breaking the silence with a quiet sniffle and my dad murmuring unintelligibly into my hair. When we finally moved away, it was because of the cold, and my dad's phone going off in his pocket. Which translated to Uncle Kotetsu or Nathan getting concerned that we hadn't showed up yet, as a Christmas Eve party at the latter's place was a traditional happening. Or maybe Ryan, but he was likely more 'irritated' about our absence so far (he'd survive the party alone, but he particularly enjoyed teasing my dad, kinda how his estranged son took great pleasure in teasing me endlessly).

My dad leaned away with an apologetic look apparent on his features, and I pulled away, back into my own space, with a small, forced smile. Admittedly, I'd grown comfortable in the embrace, but Nathan would cook us alive if we didn't show up.

So, while my dad stood and fished his phone out of his pocket, I stood and slowly began to wander away so that my dad saw. He cast me a curious look, but didn't argue when I turned and began to maneuver through the graves.

I had stopped feeling guilty for not bringing her a flower on this particular day, as this was my grandparents' day, but I still liked to visit her. And by visit her, I mean stand awkwardly looking at her grave and muse about what she must've been like, and what life might've been like if she hadn't died. I can never quite picture it, though; the happy family of three never feels plausible or even correct to me. It's like trying to complete a puzzle with a piece from a different puzzle.

Sometimes I manage to say a few things. 'Hi'. 'Dad misses you, but he's doing okay'. 'I'm doing good, just started Sophomore year'. Or whatever basic information comes to mind. Nothing ever really does, even when I rack my brains for something, and it never comes out easily like my dad talking to his parents.

I sigh as I stop at the grave. I stare at the stone for a few moments before taking a deep breath and saying, "It's, uh, me again." Awkward, I know. But it's the best I've got right now. "Uh... I really don't know what to say..." I mutter to myself, crouching down after casting a look around.

"So... Dad misses you... but you already know that... We're heading to Nathan's yearly Christmas party. But you also know that..." I sigh and let my head drop. I don't really have anything to say to 'her', which always bothers me. It's always so awkward and uncomfortable.

How my dad does this escapes me, but having known the person personally probably helps a lot.

I stand up before long and make my way back to the car. My dad already had the car running, but was waiting outside for me, with an apprehensive look. "So, that is you who always visits her on Christmas Eve." He states, opening his door.

I quirk a brow, but then shrug. "I don't ever have anything to say though."

He chuckles softly as I slide into my own seat. "Sometimes you don't need to say anything, Emily. Sometimes, just being there is enough."

I chuckle softly and smile a little too widely, but he doesn't say anything; he just smiles in return.


Author note: I do this for fun, just so we're all aware. POV's will alternate chapterly, or sometimes they won't, and I will take requests. I also have all of the kiddos lined out, so if you want one of the cast with their kid, just sat _ with their kid. Or if you want all of the kids in one, just say all the kids. That is all.