Author's Note: Spreading some cheer this crazy year! A bit late, but I just wanted to put up this holiday-themed one shot to hopefully lift some spirits. Set after the Book 8 epilogue.

As always, I DO NOT OWN Halo, the franchise/books/games/other media. All characters are my own.

Hope you enjoy!

A Very Cooper Christmas

1837 Hours, December 24, 2567. Cooper-Hawk Residence, Desmond, Regent State, Planet Mars. Inner Colonies.

"Natalie Cooper," the basic house AI stated, along with a soft, pleasant chime. "Please enter."

So nice of my own home to allow me in, I thought, and stepped into the warmth from the cold snowfall pattering the ground outside. I brushed off my boots at the entrance, then pulled off my uniform coat as the front door shut itself behind me.

A big brown labrador with short fur immediately bounded my way.

I finished hanging up my coat and turned, crouching down – with effort – to scoop up my dog's face and scratch him behind his ears. His excited tail-wagging matched my grin. "Hey there, Chief. How are you? Who's a good boy? Have you been good for your dad and the kiddos today?"

Chief barked once, both in elation and to announce my arrival to the rest of the house – although the AI had already done that. I patted his meaty side and then stood, once again with some effort. My fake leg was getting stiff with the cold. I'd been told it would function just fine in all temperatures, but…it was just something, a subtle change, I could definitely feel.

I'd never had to deal with that with my real leg. But I'd lost that, my left below the knee, five years ago in the final battle on Sanghelios. Blown to pieces in an explosion I hadn't seen coming. Eleventh hour shit – just the right time for something to go very, very wrong. So after fifteen years as an infantry officer, at only thirty-five, that had officially ended my combat career right then and there.

"Hey, Cooper," Willis said cheerfully from the kitchen, bringing me back to the present. "You're home. Glad they didn't make you stay too late on Christmas Eve."

My husband smiled as I made my way over, turning to give me a kiss on the cheek in greeting. I wondered why he was being so chaste when I noticed our youngest son, Logan, crouched behind him, picking at some dough on the floor.

"Mom, look. We're baking Christmas cookies!" our eight-year-old said excitedly. His cheer was infectious, and I smiled too.

"I see that. Great idea, Will."

"I accidentally dropped some, though. Dad said it'd be bad if Chief licked it off the floor."

"It's okay. I'll help clean up."

I tried to stoop again, but this time it hurt. Willis saw me wince and shook his head.

"Logan, think that's all you, bud. Help your mom up."

My son reached for me, but I held up a hand.

"I got it," I said with some frustration. Though I wasn't sure if it was at my husband for trying to coddle me, or at my damn leg for suddenly not cooperating this evening. "I can still fend for myself, you know."

"Did you overdo it with your troops today?" Willis asked, eyebrow raised. He knew me too damn well.

But I supposed that was normal. After all, we'd recently marked twenty years of marriage.

"Ah, you know me. I never overdo it."

"Mm. Especially not with your students in mind."

I folded my arms across my chest. "If I'm leading them, honey, I have to lead. I can't stand back or sit in a damn chair and let them go through their exercises alone."

"Well, technically, being commandant of the infantry school and colonel in charge…that's what your staff is for. This is the one job you've ever held that you actually can sit back and watch."

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh? And you do that with your pilot trainees, too? Just stay grounded and watch them fly around?"

"Well…not really…"

I smirked. "Uh-huh. My point exactly." I leaned in for another kiss, a quick one on the lips this time, and Logan groaned behind us as he stood with the fallen dough wrapped up messily in his hands.

"Mom, Dad…yuck."

Willis and I just smiled at him.

"One day, you'll appreciate having parents who get along, son," I said to him.

"And still like each other," Willis chimed in.

I wagged a finger at him. "Up for debate, sometimes. Where's the other kids?"

"Our teens are being teens. Locked in their rooms. Jenna's in the den."

I turned and headed for the living room. This time Chief followed behind, no doubt hoping to get some more attention from one of us. I walked in and at the table sat our youngest daughter. Only four and named after my late sister, Jenna had her father's golden brown hair and my green eyes. She was decorating some holosheets in bright, festive colors and swirls, with streaks of red, green, silver, and gold prominent in the artwork. She finally looked up and noticed me.

"Mommy!" she cried, and came running over as quick as Chief had when I'd arrived.

I took her in my arms and squeezed, unable to help the smile spreading across my face. "Hi, baby. So good to see you."

She was my very last one, after Willis and I had both agreed not to have anymore. Our subsequent separation after a tough deployment – and long road to reconciliation later – had changed our minds. It was cliché, but after what we'd gone through to stay together and make it work, we'd come back stronger than ever as a couple, the love between us different and changed and new. And fiery hot again. That love had needed to be channeled somewhere. After getting the all-clear from my doctor after losing my leg, and the long rehabilitation with my new prosthetic completed, we decided adding one more kid to the mix felt right.

Something – someone – to celebrate. Cue our honeymoon following our vow renewal ceremony, and the rest was history.

"Was your brother in here with you earlier?" I asked.

Jenna nodded, happily returning her attention back to her drawing. "Yeah. But then he went to help Dad with the cookies." She glanced up to smile brightly again. "I can't wait for them to be done!"

"Me, too, kiddo." I bent just a bit, wary of my leg, to kiss the top of her head. "I'm going to say hi to your siblings real quick, okay? I'll be back."

"M'kay."

Chief stayed behind this time as I ventured further into the house. Up the stairs were the kids' bedrooms – all four of them, although now it was Logan and Jenna sharing one instead of one for each. The other two were occupied by our thirteen-year-old twins, Liam and Olivia. I didn't even think about the last one yet. I knocked on Liam's door first.

"Li? It's Mom. I'm home, honey."

I could hear the sounds of blaster fire through the door and immediately knew what he was up to. I wasn't even sure if he could hear me over the sound. "Li!"

Abruptly the noise stopped. It was a little different than what I'd encountered on the battlefield, which I was grateful for. It had a distinctly inauthentic ting to the bullets and boom to the explosions – perhaps something only Willis and I could tell, because we'd been in the thick of it for all those years during the war. To my middle son, this was the war – his imaginary one. Though after having been in combat myself, I couldn't understand the attraction to that. To want to simulate what I'd been through – the blood, the bodies, the carnage, the loss – was something I'd never wrap my mind around.

"Hey," Liam offered as he opened the door. My shaggy, dark-haired teenager hopped right back up on his bed, attention zeroed in on the holoscreen. "Mom, check this out. I just tagged this Brute with a mortar shot!"

I watched the holo version of a Brute blink out of existence in Liam's game. The gore had been turned off at my insistence – he was only thirteen, after all. Too young to know what munitions really did to people, Covenant, and things. But as soon as the shot popped the Brute, I instantly remembered the sound and sight and smell of a real Brute coming apart. I turned away.

"Nice shot," I said, grateful he hadn't noticed my reaction. "You've got a few more minutes. Your brother's in the kitchen making cookies with your dad. Should be ready soon."

"Okay!"

As he got lost again in his own world, I backed out of the room and went across the hall to his twin sister's. Again I knocked, and again, there was a delayed response.

"Yeah?" Olivia asked when she answered. "Oh, Mom. Hi. You're back."

"That I am," I said, leaning against the doorjamb. "Just checking in. Doing okay?"

"Mmhmm."

I could hear music still thumping in the background, albeit lower now.

"Cookies'll be ready soon. Your dad and Logan are baking. Your little sister could use some company in the den."

"Uh, yeah. I'll be out in a few. Tell Dad thanks for the goodies!"

My oldest daughter retreated even faster than Liam had. I shook my head. Willis and I had already gone through raising one teenager together and his phases. I honestly didn't know how we were going to survive two more. And someday, another two after that.

At least the twins were still on the younger side, and not quite as unruly yet.

I stopped at the final kids' bedroom out of habit, and caught myself just before I knocked. I knew it was empty. The realization that I had no reason to check in with my oldest, Gabe – because he wasn't here – hit me like a punch in the gut.

It was Christmas. He was just seventeen. He should have been home. But he'd chosen to follow his own path, and though I'd protested it, his father had encouraged him to do so. To be his own man. To me, though, he was still my little boy and always would be. Seventeen wasn't eighteen, and he hadn't been old enough to leave yet, in my mind. But Willis had reminded me we'd been young, too, when we'd first joined the Marines. Then two years later we'd married and left for the war. If Willis and I had fallen for one another at seventeen, gone to the Naval Academy at eighteen, and married at twenty right before shipping out, why was that not old enough for our eldest son?

I frowned. Somehow, with the shoe on the other foot, it seemed impossibly young for so many big decisions. So many great leaps of faith.

Our son Gabriel had left for boot camp two months ago now. He wouldn't be back for two more. He'd joined the UNSC Marines, like us – and had decided to branch infantry, like me, rather than become a pilot like his dad. I pressed my hand against his door and felt the gaping emptiness for a moment. He'd been my baby since the day he was born. I couldn't believe so much time had passed already. I couldn't believe that he was almost all grown up now. And had already left home to start a new adventure – a life – of his own.

I missed him.

Just as I brought my hand down from the door I felt a pair of warm arms envelop me from behind. I didn't startle, but instead leaned back into my husband's embrace, allowing him to take the hurt away – the wounding feeling that someone important was missing – for a minute.

He kissed my neck softly and said, "I put on a movie for the littles. Liv and Liam are out there with them now. Cookies are almost done." He straightened a bit and followed my gaze. "You were hoping he'd be home at least through Christmas, huh?"

I nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

Willis held me tighter against him and sighed. "Me, too. But don't worry, Cooper. He'll be back home soon."

"For a while. Until he starts his new assignment." I sighed this time. "I guess I wasn't quite prepared for them to grow up just yet."

"We missed quite a few holidays ourselves during the war. The years went by too quick."

"There were a couple years there, when Gabe was little, where they spent more time with your parents than us. We'll never get that time back, Will."

"No. But if we hadn't done it, sacrificed our time then to have what we have now…none of us would've been here at all."

It was a somber thought for what had started as a happy return home at the end of the day to celebrate Christmas Eve with my family. Those who remained in the house, anyway. But, as usual, Willis was right. We'd had to make sacrifices then to be here now: in stationary jobs, with no more deployments, home with the kids. Because space outside Mars was a much safer place now. It hadn't been back then. Not while we'd still been fighting the Covenant. Not when they'd nearly beat us back to the very beginning, to Earth, and come close to annihilating us that final year.

"I miss him, Will," I said quietly.

"I know you do."

"But more than that, I worry. He may not ever have to face something on the scale we did. But he still chose to put himself in harm's way. And that…that our child has to join this fight now…experience some fragment of what we did…I never wanted this for him. For any of them."

Willis stepped back a bit as I turned around to face him, tears glistening in my eyes.

"I wanted them all home safe. We didn't get that choice. He did. We gave him that choice through what we endured. And now…"

"Natalie, you're right. Gabriel chose this. He's old enough and entitled to that. And what he needs now that he's made his decision, for better or worse, is our support. Not doubt."

I nodded, not quite convinced. But on some level, I heard what he was saying. "We have to let go."

"We have to let go," Willis repeated in agreement. "We've raised him, taught him right from wrong, and warned him of what the consequences of his choices might be. Now, the rest is up to him."

After a moment, I wiped my face on my sleeve and put on a small smile. "At least we still have the other kids here tonight. With four out of five kids and some cookies, we can – "

The basic house AI chimed and we froze.

"Gabriel Hawk," the AI announced. "Please enter."

I gave Willis another quick glance – huh? What! – before I dashed down the stairs, leg pain suddenly forgotten. I came through the hall so fast Chief leapt up from his spot in the living room and ran behind me. Willis and the rest of the kids followed suit.

When the door opened, a tall, sheepish Gabe stood in the frame, flakes of snow swirling behind him outside. He walked through the threshold in his gray boots, then peeled off his overcoat and camo hat. His light brown hair had been buzzed on the sides, although the top had been left a quarter inch longer, and his face was still smooth. Grown up and still baby-faced all at once.

He flashed us a grin. "Mom, Dad…I'm home. Merry Christmas."

I didn't stop to ask how long his leave would be. I got to him before even Chief did, wrapping my grown son – now a head taller than me, decked out in his new battledress – in a big hug. "Merry Christmas. And welcome back, sweetheart."

He chuckled, seemingly embarrassed. "Thank you, ma'am. Uh, Mom."

I pulled back and touched his face, making sure he was real and not some Christmas miracle. "It'll be ma'am soon enough, once you earn your title. Mom's just fine for now, kiddo. I'm so glad you're here."

He smiled back. "Me, too."

Willis approached him next, pulling him in for a crushing hug before the rest of Gabe's siblings crowded around him. Gabriel picked up Jenna last and she giggled. Seeing my children happy together at the holidays was all I could really ask for.

There was a chime in the kitchen. My husband perked up and said, "Oh, cookies! Let's eat!"

Minutes later, with baked goods in hand, we all made our way back to the den, where Chief parked himself in front of us on the floor. The rest of us tried our best to squeeze onto the couch – Willis on one end, with Logan and Jenna between us, and myself on the other. Gabriel sat in the lazy boy beside it, and the twins sat happily down below with their pup, each with their own dish of cookies and glasses of milk, facing the holoscreen.

To our left, by the bay window, stood our bright, colorfully lit tree. The multitude of gifts wrapped beneath it – a few for each of our five kids – made me think again how lucky we were. Not only to have survived the Human-Covenant War and other missions after, but to have stayed together as a couple – as a family – so we could be here today.

So we could have this one perfect moment, with all Cooper-Hawks under one roof.