A/N: For rubbersoles19 because she loves the angst, teh-bluejay leviprime BookwormGal, Fairyhaven13, and Flowing Tears because they've been so supportive, viridianrebooted because your art gave me the inspiration for Negaduck's final line of dialogue in this scene, and Amelia because she loves these two characters most of all.

He slowly stumbled home, every now and then stopping to try and gasp down some air or steady his racing heart.

She'd seen his house. Witnessed for herself how very far he'd fallen.

And had decided it was enough.

Because she wanted to "meet". That was all she'd sent him. "I'm at your house. Can you meet me here?"

Negaduck wasn't exactly familiar with texting lingo, but he knew enough to understand that this wasn't good.

But he kept going.

Kept pushing onward through the Negaverse.

Because he could deny her nothing.

Not even this.

Truth be told, he'd always been waiting for this moment. From the beginning. The end to the best thing that had ever happened to him. He'd started to believe that maybe she was different. That perhaps she'd stick around after all.

But then he went to Oblivion and he fell further away from grace.

Sure, she'd traveled to hundreds of worlds looking for him. Yes, she had brought him home. Saved him in every sense of the word.

But he was a mess. Haunted by PTSD and unable to adequately deal with or express how he was feeling.

So, yeah.

He understood.

Negaduck didn't want to be bothered with himself, either.

But that didn't mean this wasn't gonna hurt like hell.

He stood in the driveway of his home until he was completely numb from the cold.

Because if he didn't go in, she couldn't leave him.

But she was waiting.

And had asked him to come.

Fool that he was, Negaduck inhaled a shaky breath and walked inside.

Immediately he knew something was wrong. His front door was heavier, took more force to open than normal. Had Gosalyn replaced the door? Why would she—?

All thoughts of the door were banished from his mind when he glanced inside.

Because it was all fine.

Better than fine.

The staircase's railing wasn't cracked and splintering.

The steps weren't sagging. They weren't charred to a crisp, a shell of their former existence.

Coming fully into the house, he closed the heavier door behind him, too intrigued to consider that no cold was seeping in through the no longer crooked doorjamb.

The living room looked like it had been lifted straight out of a magazine with a dark leather couch, matching armchairs, and a roaring fire in the fireplace he'd forgotten he owned. There was a Christmas tree with the orange string lights, red and gold ornaments, black ribbon and bows.

No.

But—

The fire had destroyed all of that. He had destroyed everything. How…?

How?

Stumbling down the hall to the kitchen — over smooth floorboards that didn't creak from years of abuse — he blinked at seeing a complete kitchen set. The chairs and table were sturdy, not duct taped together or stained from the aftermath of all of Negaduck's rampages. The cabinets hung straight, every one of them complete with their own doors and handles. There were functioning appliances and countertops that wouldn't disintegrate if you gave them a dirty look.

Confused and a little unsettled, Negaduck back-tracked. Climbed the stairs — the solid, non-squeaking stairs with the garland full of skulls interwoven around the banister — and went to his room.

Where he found a huge bed, headboard not cracked and mattress parallel to the floor instead of lopsided and flat from years of (mis)use. There was an easy chair near the closet and a desk by the door. His chest of drawers was standing tall with all the drawers neatly tucked away.

What in the hell?

Someone cleared their throat behind Negaduck and he was so floored by everything that he forgot to be startled by the fact that he wasn't alone.

But it was just Gosalyn, standing in the hall with a hesitant smile.

She shrugged and said, "Santa made one last stop before returning to the North Pole."

"Bullshit. There's no way I've been good enough for… this," Negaduck said.

Her smile faltered and her brow furrowed. "Do you hate it?"

Negaduck stared at her. "Do I—?"

"Did you want to move to a new house all together? I didn't even ask. I just assumed you'd want to stay…. I already had all the furniture, so when you told me the house was gone, I thought why not fix it all? The whole house? But I can help you move if that's what you want. Or we can redecorate if I didn't make the right style choices. Or, you know, we can just set the whole thing on fire again if it's that bad. You're not… saying anything and it's kind of freaking me out. If you hate it, then just tell me—"

Negaduck didn't hear the end to her sentence.

Because he swept forward and scooped her up into a fierce hug. She only hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace, her grip unwavering.

She didn't want to push him away.

"You did all of this over a few days?" he asked, still holding on tight.

She didn't want to leave.

"Santa and his elves did," Gosalyn said, her tone light and he knew she was smiling.

She was rebuilding what he had destroyed.

Holding onto her all the tighter, he said, "Was this why I couldn't come home?"

If he could've been bothered to look outside his own self-imposed problems, he might have realized what was actually going on.

"Pretty lame excuse, right? Finding a new hideout?"

God, he loved this girl. So much it nearly suffocated him.

Negaduck set Gosalyn back down on her feet and was pleased to see she was still smiling at him. "Never know when I'll destroy another hideout, so it's for the best I have backups," he said.

"That's kind of what I was thinking," Gosalyn said, pointing to the furniture in his room. "You have all of this to tear apart and beat up now. So when you come over for Christmas again, you can just dismantle your bed or something. I'd prefer you talk to me, or tell me when you're feeling uncomfortable with something. But if not, then there's so much to destroy before you set anything on fire."

Negaduck watched her as she spoke, how her hands flew around, the way her facial expression changed with each new thought. He felt the gentleness in his eyes, how his beak was quirked up in a soft smile.

And all because of her.

"So," Gosalyn said, meeting Negaduck's eyes. "You don't hate it?"

He turned to look back into his bedroom where the wind didn't whistle through the windows and the walls weren't discolored from mildew. "I don't hate it."

Gosalyn hugged him from behind, her head resting near his shoulder.

Catching sight of the wreath on the front of his bedroom door, Negaduck sighed. "Still exhausting dealing with all this Christmas crap every year."

"But I was right, wasn't I?" she said. "It's worth it."

Negaduck glanced down and met her gaze. "You were right."

She smiled and nestled her head against his shoulder as he brought up a hand to pat her forearm.

Negaduck sure as hell didn't deserve Gosalyn.

But he would never stop being grateful that she decided he was worth fighting for.