Abby slowly propped herself up against the pillows on Brody's bed and watched as he came out of the bathroom.

"Are you sure you have to go?"

Brody laughed and nodded, grabbing his shirt from the edge of the bed and pulling it over his head. "Abby, as much as I would love to stay in bed with you all day, I'm pretty sure the department would frown on me skipping a shift just because my girlfriend asked me to."

Abby sighed. "I suppose so. You're off at two, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I'll be at my parents' place most of the day. You could, uh, make it over in plenty of time for dinner. We'd have already finished most of the presents and the hubbub, but Mom's prime rib is amazing and…"

"Abby…" Brody shook his head as he sat down on the side of the bed. "I'm not asking you to give up Christmas trees or stockings by the fire or any of your Christmas traditions. Those are important to you, I get that. But I am asking you to not try to make me be a part of them, because that's something I can't do. Not right now. Okay?"

"Alright," Abby agreed reluctantly. "Can I still come over later tonight?"

"Of course."

"What are you going to do until then?"

Brody shrugged. "I don't know, probably what I always do…grab a movie, eat some Chinese food. I'll probably have to call my brother at some point and try to convince him I'm okay."

"Your brother?"

"He moved back to the city a few years ago, and ever since then, he's been trying to get me to come spend Christmas with him and his family. I keep saying no, but he keeps asking. He thinks just because I don't celebrate Christmas, I haven't dealt with what happened."

"Is he right?"

Brody sighed and shook his head. "I don't know, maybe. It's different for Paul, though…he wasn't there that night, he was at his dad's. He didn't have to sit at the hospital, see her lying there with all those tubes and monitors everywhere, see our baby brother in the NICU…none of that is as real for him as it is for me. To him, Joseph is still just a name on a stone…he never met him, he never saw his little arms waving, his eyes…his dad was in Seattle, and everyone here was in such a daze, I don't even think Paul knew Mom had died until a day or two later."

Abby scooted closer to Brody and rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he means well."

Brody nodded. "It's not like we don't get along. We see each other a couple times a year…I watch his kids from time to time when he and his wife go out of town. It's just this time of year…it's different for me than it is for him." Brody sighed and glanced at the clock by the bed. "I really have to get going. I'm going to be late for my shift."

Abby nodded as Brody stood up and turned back to face her.

"Have a good time with your family," he said, hesitating for a moment before leaning over and kissing her softly. "I love you."

Abby smiled nervously like she always did, glancing down at her hands as Brody waited for a moment before he let out a sigh so softly she almost couldn't hear it and turned to leave. Abby almost opened her mouth to stop him, but found herself once again without words as he slipped out the door.

Abby smiled as she opened the door to her parents' house and was instantly met with the unmistakeable smells of cinnamon rolls and Christmas trees. The combination was burned into her memory as the first indicator of Christmas morning in the Kowalski house. Shutting the door and tiptoeing into the house, she hesitated for a moment at the though, wondering briefly what sort of smells were burned into Brody's Christmas memories. Not good ones, she supposed.

Setting her stack of presents down near the tree, she walked into the kitchen and grinned when she saw her mother at the stove and Donnie leaning against the counter by the sink.

"Merry Christmas."

Sheila glanced up and frowned as she set her mixing spoon down on the counter and put her hand on her hip.

Donnie shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at his sister. "Oh, so you've decided to join us after all? What happened, couldn't get a better offer?"

Abby frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I believe your brother is referring to last night," Sheila said, slowly picking up her spoon and turning her attention to her mixing bowl. "You missed midnight Mass, Abby."

"Not to mention baking cookies with the kids, Christmas Eve dinner and opening the traditional one present before we go to bed," Donnie added. "But apparently turning your back on your family is okay these days. I guess it's kind of your thing, really."

"Donald!" Sheila scolded gently, shaking her head at him before turning back to Abby. "Abby, we're concerned. You disappear without warning on a holiday you love, you don't…"

"I didn't disappear, Mom," Abby interrupted. "I told you all I wouldn't be able to make it."

Donnie scoffed. "A text message to Richie at eight o'clock doesn't count as letting us know, Abby. Where the hell were you?"

"I had something I had to do," Abby said.

"Like what?"

Abby hesitated for a split second. "That's none of your business, Donnie."

"Like hell it isn't. We're…"

"Donnie," Sheila interrupted quickly, her voice calm but firm. "Why don't you go upstairs and see if your brothers and the kids are awake yet?"

"But I…"

"Donald…"

Donnie threw up his hands in defeat. "I'm going, I'm going."

Sheila sighed as Donnie walked out of the room, waiting until she heard his footsteps on the stairs before turning to Abby. "Are you alright?"

Abby sighed. "I'm fine, Mom. Really."

"Were you working?"

"No."

Sheila shook her head and rested her hands on the counter, staring at Abby intently. "In thirty-three years, you've only missed one Christmas Eve, Abby. Only one, when you were working."

Abby hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure why she was so reluctant to share what she'd been doing the night before. It certainly wasn't that she doubted her mother would understand her actions - in fact, she was sure if anyone would understand, it was her mother. Still, she didn't feel as though it were her story to share, at least not yet.

Sheila watched as Abby struggled to come up with a response, noticing for the first time how utterly exhausted her daughter looked. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Abby shrugged. "A few hours."

Sheila nodded as she turned around and pulled a mug off the shelf before grabbing the full coffee pot and filling the mug. Turning around, she slid the mug across the counter to Abby. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."