"Hey, Henry? Are you awake?"

Henry peeked an eye open to see his little brother standing at the foot of his bed. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he leaned over to grab his glasses off his nightstand, sitting up and clearing his throat. "I am now, Michael. What do you want?"

"It's 7:20," Michael spoke, pointing to the alarm clock next to Henry's bed.

"And?"

"And Batman comes on at 7:30 on Saturdays! Do you wanna watch with me?"

Henry sighed, but threw his covers back and slid out of bed. "You know, I'm almost a teenager. I'm gonna be too old for Saturday morning cartoons soon."

"No you're not," Michael shrugged. "Emily still watches cartoons and she's like, really old."

"Don't let her hear you say that."

"Okay," Michael agreed, shrugging again.

Henry smiled. Sometimes their seven-year age gap made it feel like he had nothing in common with his brother, but the older he got, the more Henry was able to appreciate his role as Michael's older sibling. "I gotta use the bathroom," he said, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "Go get us some cereal and I'll meet you in the family room."

Henry found Michael sitting on the floor at the coffee table, two bowls of cereal and a gallon of milk set out before him. "I didn't wanna pour the milk in case it spilled. It's kinda full," Michael smiled, pointing to the breakfast he'd set out. "And Mommy and Emily are still sleeping. Can you do that part?"

"Yeah, of course," Henry nodded, picking up the milk and carefully pouring a little into each bowl before returning the carton to the refrigerator. He knew Michael looked up to him, and Henry took that seriously. It was his job to stick up for his little brother, and he hated to think that Michael's friends might be giving him a hard time about their family, too. "Hey, Mikey?" he asked, returning to the coffee table and picking up his spoon. "Mom and Emily both take you to karate sometimes, right?"

"Yup," Michael nodded. "And sometimes Dad does, or Grandma. Or Christine when Mommy and Emily have to go away for work," he said, referring to their nanny who lived-in when both JJ and Emily had to be out of town for a case.

"When Emily takes you, do your friends say anything about her?"

"Yeah," Michael nodded, his face serious. Henry felt his heart sink, unsure how he could help his brother deal with the feelings he was only just starting to figure out himself. "Sometimes Rosie calls her my loud mom."

"Does that bother you?"

Michael shook his head. "Not really. Emily does cheer really loud sometimes. Once Sensei had to ask her to quiet down because she was being sorta distracting."

"I mean the 'mom' part. Does that bother you?"

Michael looked surprised. "No, why?"

"She's not actually our mom," Henry said gently. "You know that, right?"

"Well, yeah," Michael agreed. "But she kinda is." Henry just looked at him, so Michael continued. "My teacher asked if she was my mom, and I said yes. Is that bad?"

Henry blinked, not sure how to answer his little brother's question. "Umm, no? I don't think it's bad. She's a lot like our mom."

"Yeah," Michael nodded. "Ms. Pierce asked why I don't call her mom, so I told her she's not just my mom, she's my Momily." He smiled, clearly proud of himself. "Get it? 'Cause she's a mom, but she's Emily! She's a Momily!"

Henry couldn't help his smile. "A Momily?"

"Yeah!" Michael laughed. "It's kinda funny, huh?"

"It is," Henry agreed, pointing to the television as the Batman theme music started up. "Your show's on."

"Yes!" Michael cheered, immediately enthralled in the adventures of the characters on-screen.

Paying only half-attention to the cartoon, Henry sat back and watched his brother. Being so much older, Henry was used to things being easier for him when Michael struggled. It felt strange to have something that had brought up so many feelings for him be such a non-issue for the younger boy. For what was probably the first time, Henry needed learn from his younger brother instead of the other way around.

"Mikey?" Henry asked again at the start of the first commercial break.

Michael looked up from the action figures he had been positioning on the coffee table, recreating a scene from the segment he had just watched, his bowl of cereal, now empty, acting as the dungeon where the bad guys had congregated.

"Does Emily know that you said she was your," he paused, making air quotes, "'Momily'?"

"I can't remember," Michael shrugged. "I don't think I told her."

"Do you think she'd care?"

"I bet she'd think it was funny," Michael responded. "'Cause it is."

Henry smiled. "I bet you're right." He looked at his little brother again. "You know Emily really loves us, right, even though we already have a mom and dad?"

"Yeah," Michael nodded. "Duh."

"Okay, good." They sat in silence a moment before Henry spoke again. "If for any reason you ever start to doubt that or if the other kids at school make you feel like our family is weird or not as good as theirs, will you tell me?"

"Sure," Michael shrugged. "But why would they do that?"

"I don't know," Henry admitted. "I hope they won't." He paused again, watching as Michael rearranged his action figures, copying some of the lines of dialogue he'd just heard. "You know, you're really smart for a kindergartener."

Michael grinned. "I know! Now be quiet, the show's back!"