Chapter 17

Wick's POV

It might seem selfish for Wick to spend so much time worrying about himself when Raven is undoubtedly nervous, but she's asleep for most of the trip anyway. She passes out and leaves him to his own thoughts about his crazy family and all the things that could go wrong over the next couple of days. His aunt had a tendency to say things wildly out of line, like commenting on his relationship status. Not to mention his nosey cousins or any of their crazy kids. He knew better than to think that the kids wouldn't all be asking a hundred and one questions about her leg. Raven would hate that.

In fact, she would probably hate everyone. And he couldn't even blame her. They were his own family and he could barely even stand them. He prays that John doesn't make any dumb comments and that Anya isn't overly inquisitive and that, for the love of god, Indra's giant ass dog doesn't jump up and knock Raven to the ground.

The concern doesn't ease once she finally wakes up and it certainly doesn't lessen when they pull up outside of his aunt's house, one more car along the road in front of it. Raven looks terrified so he smiles, making a point to behave like he's not. "Hey wait," he says once they reach the front door. It might be freezing out but, considering the circumstances, he was willing to brave it a little bit longer. "We should have a safe word."

"A…" she trails off and quirks an eyebrow. "What sort of a Christmas party did you bring me to, Wick?" she jokes but her voice lacks its usual humour.

"The kind with my family," he tries to joke along. Perhaps it would be easier if it wasn't so damn true. "I want you to be able to tell me if they're bothering you or if your leg hurts or anything." In an attempt to be nonchalant he shrugs. "I don't want you to feel stuck."

Raven smiles at him in return. "Is it weird?" she asks.

"My family? I mean, yes, but no weirder then-"

"No," she cuts him off and leans back against the door frame. "Me being here. It's not like…I'm not-we're not…" He understands what she's trying to say though she doesn't quite find the words.

Wick leers and he can see the irritation pass through Raven's eyes. "What are you trying to say, Reyes?" he asks, letting a teasing tone fill his voice as he leans a few degrees closer. It's all totally a joke but still his heart stutters out a few beats faster as he starts to say, "Because if you want-"

The door swings open, effectively silencing his stupid little offer. It was probably for the best. Raven looked ready to kill him. "Uncle Kyle's here and he's brought a lady!" Anya's oldest exclaims. The boy turns and runs, leaving the two of them standing out in the cold.

"Good start," Wick mutters as he moves past Raven and into the house. A chorus of "Merry Christmas!" comes from the living room. His aunt makes her way into the foyer at once, an apron around her waist and a tense smile on her lips.

"I'm glad you made it safe," she tuts, as she walks up and wraps him in a hug. He doesn't hesitate to hug back. "The weather was getting nasty out there."

"We're here in one piece," he reassures her. No matter how annoying and overbearing she could be, a part of Wick appreciated it.

At the word 'we're' his Aunt Mary Anne seems to remember that it wasn't just Kyle who was coming this time. She turns to Raven and immediately wraps the girl in a hug. Wick stands by helplessly. "So nice to meet you, darling," she says with a tender pat to Raven's cheek. "It's been a long time since Kyle has had anyone in his life."

He clears his throat and steps around his aunt to partially block her path to Raven. "Funny thing is," he says with a nervous chuckle. "She's just a friend in my life. Remember, Aunt Mary Anne? I'm bringing my friend to Christmas."

Her only response it to swat his chest with the back of her hand. "Go say hello to everyone in the family room. You have plenty of time to stumble over your words later." Raven smirks which Wick hardly appreciates. "Nice to have you."

Then she's gone, leaving the two standing in the foyer with bags still in hand. "So that's my aunt." Raven laughs and Wick sets their bags down in the corner. "Let me introduce you to the rest of the crazies."

Raven, to her credit, seems to have left her nerves at the door and walks confidently beside him as they turn the corner to the family room. "Uncle Kyle!" comes from a variety of small people. They drop their toys and come running, arms wrapping around legs and hands pulling at his shirt. One kid runs around back and attempts to jump onto Wick.

It's a conglomeration of shouts and squeals with a few whines and 'ows!' mixed in. Even the boy who had originally left them out in the cold was now surrounding Wick as well.

"Did you bring presents?" one of the smaller girls asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

"Charlotte!" Echo reprimands from over on the couch. "That's not polite."

The little girl makes a small 'O' with her mouth and thinks for a second. "Did you bring any presents please and thank you?" Echo just rolls her eyes and says nothing else, patting her swollen belly.

Above all of the chaos Raven still manages to find Wick's eyes, wide and alight with excitement as he reaches behind him to keep one of the kids from falling. "You didn't tell me you were the pied piper," Raven jokes. The words are enough for everyone's attention to shift to her. Even the children fall silent as they drink in the stranger. "Hi," she offers lamely. "I'm Raven."

Wick removes the small humans from him and puts a hand on Raven's shoulder. "She's a friend of mine from work," he clarifies. He knew better than to let everyone form their own ideas of how he knew her.

The adults finally stands from the couch, coming over to greet her. She shakes hands with the whole group of people and he can see in her eyes that she's a little overwhelmed. John nods in greeting, staying in his seat. Seems about right, Wick thinks.

"But how will Santa find you?" Wick doesn't recognise the boy with his dark skin and curly hair. He must be one of John's new foster kids. He sounds very concerned; Wick wouldn't be surprised if John and his husband hadn't had to qualm this kid's concerns about Santa's ability to locate misplaced children already.

Raven opens her mouth to open but no response immediately comes. "Santa will find her," he tells the little boy with a wink. "Don't worry."

Anya's middle girl, Sasha, reaches for Raven's brace and runs her hand along it almost reverently. "Did you hurt yourself?" she asks, tears of concern gathering in her eyes. She'd always been a sensitive child.

"Hey, don't-" he goes to stop the kids before they could carry on but Raven waves him off.

She nods at the little girl, staring down. "Yeah, I hurt my leg really bad a while ago. It doesn't work right anymore but this makes it do its job a little better."

All of the kids gather around, momentarily entranced by the long, black contraption that held Raven's leg. "Like magic?" one of the children asks with eyes wide.

"Even better," Raven answers, her entire audience captivated as they waited eagerly for her next words. She bends forward and the children all stand on tiptoes in anticipation of what she'll say is better than magic. "It's mechanics."

The word isn't familiar to them and they all drop their jaws in awe. "Mechanics," one of them mouths quietly. "Did Santa give it to you?" another one of them asks.

Raven shakes her head, her ponytail swishing. "A doctor gave it to me."

Sasha wrinkles her nose. "I don't like the doctors. They give shots." She grabs her arm as if she'd recently been assaulted by the shot giving doctor there. "Santa is better." The group of kids all agree, nodding solemnly to her claim.

Raven smiles, swinging her gaze up from the kids to Wick who just grins widely back at her. The children are all distracted yet again as they hear a call for table setters coming from the kitchen. The lot of them immediately begin arguing.

"Ignore them," Anya says with a tired sigh. "That's generally my tactic."

"Mother of the year!" John jokes as he raises his glass in a pretend toast.

From there it's more chaos. Everyone talking over the other, loud laughs, and even louder jokes. The wine bottle gets passed around the room and the children needn't any alcohol to appear completely intoxicated. Raven and Wick squeeze in on one of the couches and take in everything. Wick joins the conversation easily at times, Raven remains mostly silent.

Dinner passes by smoothly with only two drinks spilled, one from Garrett, Anya's oldest, and one from Hunter, John's husband. Wick notes Raven's initial hesitation as she sits next to him, taking only the smallest portions of each dish. He rolls his eyes and makes a point to give her an extra scoop of each dish before serving himself. "Trust me," he mumbles on his second scoop of potatoes. "There will be no shortage on food."

After dinner everyone sits back, stomachs full and eyes heavy. "To the living room!" his aunt announces. This elicits cheers from the children and groans from most of the grownups.

Raven immediately stands and starts collecting the dishes, starting with hers and Wick's. "Oh quit that right now, young lady," his aunt jokingly reprimands.

"You cooked dinner, it's the least I could do," Raven insists, moving to grab Anya's plate next.

"The least you could do is move your sorry rear end into the living room with the rest of the family and leave these dishes a happy mess on the table." Raven nods and obeys, leaving the small pile she's collected and pushing them further back on the table. Indra's dog, Gustus, had already made a few attempts of food stealing.

Back in the family room everyone finds their seats once more. Wick squeezes back between Anya and Raven. He slings an arm over the back of the couch behind Raven but doesn't move it any closer.

Something about this whole, being surrounded by families at the holidays, nonsense was leaving him feeling less and less like she is his friend from work and way more like she's…damn it. He pulls his head out of his ass and tunes back into everything going on around him.

"What are we doing?" Raven whispers, leaning back so that she was closer to his ear. Her neck brushes against his arm but neither of them move away.

"Family tradition," he half-whispers back, not stopping the impulse he has to reach his hand forward to tug on her ponytail. She swats at him but doesn't verbally attack like he thought she might. In fact, she doesn't even fully move away from him.

The kids all sit in a semi-circle on the floor, inching closer and closer as Mary Anne starts digging under the tree. She pulls out several wrapped boxes and turns to her husband for help. "Alright, who's been good this year?" he demands resulting in loud claims of "Me! Me! Me!" and hands grabbing for boxes.

"Don't give him one," John says as his mom goes to hand Hunter a box. "He's been a dick."

His mother reaches forward and swats him. "As if I don't know better," she grumbles but hands over John's box regardless.

Wick laughs good-naturedly and accepts his and Raven's boxes from his uncle. He holds out Raven's to her and she stares as though he's grown a third head. "Merry Christmas Eve," he says, pushing it a little closer.

"I didn't-no one was-"

"Literally everyone gets one, just open it." She hesitates a minute longer before taking the box from him and carefully pealing back the paper. Wick doesn't waste time before clawing his open to reveal what ensemble had been selected for this evening.

"Sorry if it doesn't quite fit, dear," his aunt to Raven, coming up from behind her on the couch. Raven jumps but recovers quickly. "Kyle here didn't sound too confident when I asked him your size but they're for sleeping, so hopefully it doesn't matter too much anyway."

Raven beams, holding the Christmas pyjamas out in front of her and examining. "They look perfect; thank you so much Ms…"

"None of that," she cuts her off. "Call me Aunt Mary Anne and leave it at that."

With a firm nod Raven casts one more smile in her direction before turning back around. "You didn't mention any traditions."

"Oh I didn't? Damn, I guess you're not ready for the mud fight outside then." She rolls her eyes but the smile on her lips doesn't fully fade.

"It's time for the show!" Garret, the oldest of the kid crew announces. Wick watches in silent horror as the children all attempt to play instruments and sing to common Christmas carols. Every year this "show" had been performed. Every year Wick was convinced it must have gotten better this time around. It turns out that this year is not the year of improvement.

Soon after the kids are all wrangled off to get ready for bed and the adults too start saying their goodnights. "I set up the basement for you two," Wick's aunt says in passing as she scoops up one of her grandchildren that was half asleep on the floor. "There's a blow up bed and some extra blankets since it gets cold down there."

And then she walks off, not acknowledging the fact at all that they needed two completely separate sleeping places as they were not together in any matter. "I'll sleep up here with the kids," Wick offers in a rush.

"I don't even know where I'm going," she reminds him before he's even finished his statement. He grabs their bags from the front room and leads her to the door for the basement. She starts down the stairs first, her pace slow but steady. Wick walks patiently behind her.

The basement had only ever made it to halfway finished. The floor was carpeted but the ceiling was still just a series of rafters. The whole room did have an ominous chill throughout it. The one upside was the bathroom that had been completed down here.

Wick turns to walk back upstairs when Raven's voice stops him. "Don't be stupid," she says before he even makes it to the first step. "I'm not going to make you sleep up there in munchkin central. Keep your hands to yourself and we'll be just fine."

He's surprised at her willingness but doesn't question it. In addition he also holds back every joke that immediately jumped to his mind. None of them would have helped to ease the awkwardness, that's for sure. He changes into his pyjamas out in the room while Raven goes into the bathroom to put on hers and brush her teeth. She comes back out, pyjama top on but her skinny jeans still adorning her bottom half. She sits on the edge of the blow up bed and he watches as her hands make quick work of removing her brace.

Wick moves to go brush his teeth but she stops him. "Hey, Wick," she says quietly. He turns and meets her eyes.

"Yeah?" he asks, not doubting for a second that she was sending him up to munchkin central now that she'd considered their predicament a bit further.

"Can you…help me?" she bites her lip, pulling the last of her brace off and letting her foot fall to the concrete heavily.

There's no hesitation as he makes his way back over. "Of course, what do you need me to do?"

"I just need help balancing," she tells him, not waiting for him to grasp what is happening before she's unbuttoning her pants and hoisting herself to a standing position, her weight entirely on her right leg. She's steady but he sees her predicament as she starts attempting to shimmy the pants off.

He walks over and wraps an arm under her shoulders. She brings a hand up to rest on one of his. It's a lot of standing up, then sitting down, and back up again. Wick does his best not to look, trying to respect her privacy. But he can't help watching how she guides her bad leg to do pretty much everything. She forces it through each pant leg, making use of rolling the material in order to help her out.

"Can you feel it?" he asks tactlessly, once she's sitting back on the bed fully in her new pyjamas.

Raven looks up at him in surprise. Normally he abided by her unspoken rules. Today he had already crossed her carefully laid out boundaries twice. Some of it was natural curiosity; some was just that he wanted to understand her better. Her leg was a big part of her (there was a proportions joke waiting to happen) and he wanted to try and understand just how it impacted her life a little more clearly.

"Not so much anything external," she answers and she holds out her hand for his. He gives it willingly. She takes his hand and pulls him down. He kneels in front of her and his breath hitches in his throat when he looks up and she's right there in front of him.

Clearing her throat, Raven guides his hand down to her ankle and up to her knee. He doesn't press hard and she puts a little more force on his hand as the reach the top of her knee. "Can you feel that?" he whispers. Maybe he was talking about the sensation in her leg but more likely he was talking about the electrical current that was travelling all through the air of his aunt's previously freezing basement.

"No," she says. She takes her own hand, hitting right at her knee with more force then Wick expected. He grabs her hand before she can move to do it again. "It's fine. I can't feel it."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." She lets him hold her hand between both of his for a minute before pulling it free.

"I can't feel any sensations like that for the most part," she says with a shrug. "But then there's the internal stuff…that's still there."

"All of it?" he asks. He was good with certain things. For one, he knew his way around the periodic table of elements. There was no struggle in understanding chemical reactions or acid-base balances. Anatomy and physiology hadn't ever been his strong suit.

She shakes her head. "I'm sure there's something missing, like sometimes I can feel the lack of it more than what's actually there…if that makes sense." It doesn't but he nods anyway. "But the pain when it's in the brace too long or I don't stretch it at all, or even if I use it too much…that I can feel."

It would be hard to forget the day she laid on his couch, tears leaking out of her eyes as he pried the brace off her leg. Clearly some feeling must still be there.

"What happened?" he braves asking. She swallows heavily before shaking her head.

"It was just an accident," she says, moving to lie down in bed. He watches her pull the leg into bed with her. "Goodnight."

Desperately he wants to push a little more, to eek out another answer or two before this intimacy between them is gone. But he knows better, so he shuts up and brushes his teeth.

When he climbs into the blow up bed, it dips beneath his weight and Raven falls slightly towards him. It makes her giggle, despite the previous tense moment. He playfully reaches over and pushes her back to her side. Her body was so tiny in comparison to his. Somehow even the extra small pyjamas still manged to hang off of her too thin body.

"What happened to your parents?" she asks while his hands are still on her, one on her shoulder and the other on her back. Immediately he stops trying to push her. His hands remain in place though.

It wasn't that he didn't talk about it. It was just that he hadn't talked about it. There weren't a ton of opportunities to discuss such a matter, and he wasn't in the business of making opportunities either. "Died." It's a simple answer; the truth was usually simple after all. It was when you tried to cover things up that they got messy.

"How?" she breathes out. He removes his hands from her as she works to rotate her body around to face him. It hadn't occurred to him before that something as simple as changing position in bed was impacted by her leg as well.

"Car accident." It wasn't fun to remember. The late night phone call, the teary eyed nurse, the shouts for crash carts and trauma kits. "Drunk driver."

"Is he in jail?" Raven asks, holding her breath as she awaits the answer.

Wick flips to his back, fixing his eyes on the ceiling above. There were a few different spots where the light from upstairs shone through. "That would be kind of hard," he says, clearing his throat. "Seeing as my dad was the drunk driver and he's dead now."

"Oh," she answers, no more than a whisper in the darkness that vanishes as soon as it was released. "I'm sorry, I-"

"How about your leg?" he asks again because everything hurts. He hates that he remembers ID-ing their bodies. He hates remembering his older sister's bloody, crying face. He hates that the only thing left to feel towards his father was animosity. Wick was counting on her to distract him.

It does occur to him that she might kick him out of the bed or cuss him out right there, with only ten minutes left until Christmas, but he doesn't care. He has a hard time caring when he feels like he's been gutted open for the first time in three years. "Gunshot," she admits, the words choking out.

"Damn," he says back. That wasn't the answer he expected. "Is the guy who did it in jail?" He repeats her question back to her, hoping for a better conclusion to her story than there was for his.

"Nope," is all she offers.

"These are some cheery Christmas conversations," he jokes, eyes still watching the clock as it neared further still towards midnight.

"Thank you for inviting me, Wick," she whispers, her hand reaching out to grab onto his in the dark. "It's just nice not to be alone."

It strikes him then how strongly he feels for Raven. Though it had never been his intentions and even as he'd tried to deny any feelings for her so many times, he knew for certain then and there that he had failed. He didn't just worry about Raven or experience concern. He cared about her, the kind of caring that you feel in your stomach and your chest and right behind your eyes when something goes wrong. It was the kind of caring that seeped into every aspect of your life and you didn't remember to be bothered by it because it felt so right.

"Ditto," he whispers back, squeezing her hand. He did what he could to convey every ounce of feeling he had into that simple gesture. There were no more words to offer so he settles for the small amount of contact she allows.

Raven squeezes back and there's just enough light for him to watch her eyes shut, her grasp unrelenting even as she drifted off.