Raven's POV

There was something about the darkness that never failed to get her into trouble. She trusted the obscurity of nightfall, believing it would hold her secrets and tuck them away into the void. The truth was easy to confess when you could barely even see the person you're speaking to. Unfortunately for her, Raven kept being reminded that morning always came around.

This one happens to announce itself with a repeated poke in the shoulder and a giddy call of her name. She groans, pulling the pillow out from under her head to place it over top of her face. It wasn't even that bright, but she was hoping that this signal would send the shoulder poker away.

"Raven," he insists, his hands getting a little more adventurous as they transition from poking to lightly ghosting up and down her arm. "It's Christmas."

The reality of everything comes back to her in a rush. She was in Wick's aunt's basement, sleeping in a blow up bed; next to him at that. And he was the one touching her. He was the one making the goosebumps raise on her arms. "I suggest you wake up before the little monsters come to get us."

"Ugh," she groans. Wick rips the pillow from her face and she cracks her eyes just enough to glower at him. "I hate you."

"Rise and shine, buttercup," he teases, poking her nose before he gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom. She can hear his teeth brushing from here.

Flopping out among the pillows and blankets Raven closes her eyes for another minute, revelling in the security of the moment. She was happy. Despite being in a cold basement on a barely passable bed with an idiot as a roommate brushing his teeth in the other room, she was really happy. The feeling leaves a block sitting in the back of her throat as tension builds behind her eyes.

She sits up before she can dwell on it anymore, completely uncertain if the tears threatening to come were happy or sad ones. She focuses on getting her brace to strap on correctly. The excess material of her pyjama pants made it harder than normal.

For several minutes she struggles, trying to keep the pant leg taut while also using both of her hands to start securing straps. With a sigh she looks up, feeling Wick standing there. "What was that? You'd like some help. Thank god I'm here."

She hates him for being cocky but she appreciates him as he holds her pant leg nice and tight so she can get the job done. He peers up as she secures the last strap, his face almost level with hers. "Merry Christmas, Reyes," he says quietly, pulling away and standing up.

Clearing her throat, she stands from the bed and runs her fingers through her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. "Yeah, yeah," she waves him off. "Let me brush my teeth before I'm subjected to anymore festivities."

He comes up behind her in the bathroom, hovering beside her reflection in the mirror. "Don't lie. You had fun last night."

Raven smiles in memory of the antics, causing some toothpaste to drip. She leans over the sink. Maybe last night hadn't been so bad. Never before had she been surrounded by so many excited children. Though it was a bit of a headache inducer, it was also contagious. She found herself enjoying the squeals of joy and rambunctious laughter. Even though she detested the fighting that soon followed it.

"Let's do this," she says, coming out of the bathroom and offering Wick a smile. "And Merry Christmas."

In response his smile widens and he pans his arms out toward the stairs in an 'after you' gesture. Already she can hear the clattering of dishes and the many conversations that were carrying through out the kitchen upstairs.

"About time you two woke up," Indra comments when they walk in. "We were about ready to set Gus on you guys." Raven smiles as the dog looks up at his master from the mention of his name, tail wagging. He was a vicious looking dog, but a total sweetheart was the only side Raven had yet to see of him.

There were more cheers from the kids when they saw Wick. Only this time it had less to do with his presence and far more to do with the fact that now everyone was awake and they would be permitted to open presents.

"Breakfast first!" one of the woman demands of the kids who all groan in complaint. "The faster you sit and eat and the faster you get to presents." Everyone complies much more quickly after that.

Raven stands off to the side of the kitchen, unsure of what to do with herself amongst all of the other family activities. She noticed some of the dads helping their kids cut their pancakes and the mom's tying little girl's hair back in ponytails to prevent sticky syrup from getting in it. She feels a pang of bitterness, toward the kids with their attentive moms and toward the husbands and wives, working together to keep everything running along. She hated that this was her knee jerk response to so many things, but she couldn't help feeling gipped when she watched scenarios like this play out.

The whole mothering thing hadn't even been something Raven desired, especially as she got older, but there had been time when she thought she might create the family she'd never had. Finn used to love talking about it, head on her stomach as he discussed the future. A big house with a good security system, always more than enough food, and he wanted four kids running around the front yard. It wasn't her vision, but it became theirs anyway. She missed the potential of a future as much as she resented the lack of a past.

The son of the family, John, comes to stand next to her. He didn't seem to talk much, and when he did it was generally sarcastic. Raven saw the way he looked at his foster kids and his husband, though. It was quite the contrast from the man he seemed to portray. "So how long have you and Kyle been together?" he asks.

Raven rolls her eyes. "We're just friends from work, honestly." She knew the impression her presence would give his family but she didn't think they'd be this open in their inquiries.

John scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Please, that guy has been a total loner since his family died, not that I blame him. If you managed to get a ticket to the family Christmas party then he must care about you an awful lot."

Something with one of his kids catches his eye then and he pushes off the wall to go offer assistance. His words cycle through her head, introducing a thought she hadn't fully considered until just now. Everything with them had just sort of…happened. She never intended for him to become a friend, never did she think that maybe he would grow to actually give a shit about her. The realisation that that is exactly why she's standing in his extended family's kitchen on Christmas morning sends a pang through her heart. It was all a bit too sentimental for her taste, but she was blaming all of the extra sleep she'd gotten for the way her emotions swelled.

Wick helps with passing out the plates of waffles and pancakes, trying to steal a plate for himself and getting a whack on the back of the head for it. The kids laugh at that almost as hard as Raven.

"Aunt Waven, come sit next to me!" one of the little girls says around a bite full of pancakes. She doesn't bother to correct the girl on her title and instead walks over and sits down next to her, taking over on syrup pouring for the child before things could get any worse.

There're sticky finger prints and mouths all around and Raven is a little bit put off by the one kid who just keeps shoving his hands in his mouth. The line of spit when he pulls it out doesn't help her hold back a cringe.

After a few minutes Wick comes to sit beside her, offering her a plate of pancakes. "Not as good as mine," he says while pouring a generous amount of syrup. "But they're edible."

Raven takes one bite and decides that he's right, they're ten times better than his. She tells him so and gets a tug on her ponytail in response. She sticks out her tongue and then they're both reprimanded by Garrett. "You can't pull girls hair," he tells Wick sternly.

"Yeah, and sticking your tongue out is not polite," the middle girl says with a vigorous nodding of her head.

"Guess no presents for me this year," Raven says by way of explanation of the lack of Santa visitation. She had a feeling someone would be bringing it up before the morning was over.

They migrate to the living room where the kids immediately destroy every gift that so much slightly resembles their names written on it. There's enough going on to prevent any proper fighting (not that it stops Sasha and Charlotte from arguing over who got the blue doll and who got the pink.)

As soon as they're done the kids clamber up eagerly, knocking legs out of the way as they reached under the couch. "What the hell are you doing?" Indra asks, earning reproachful stares from everyone.

"Not nice, Aunt Indra," Sasha informs her. Her stern stare quickly turns to a bright smile though as she holds out a card.

"We made Christmas presents too!" Marcus shouts, bouncing in place as he runs to his foster dads, his own homemade card being held out in offering.

The adults all ooh and ahh appropriately over their cards, Wick included. "Here we made you one too," James, the other foster son of John, says.

Raven's more than a little touched as she reaches out to take it. They had only met her yesterday. "We let Hannah draw on it a little too much," he says, pointing out the back page that was a series of scribbles. "But Sasha made the snowflakes and I did the stamps."

It's stupid, she barely even knows the kid, but being well thought of leaves her eyes watering regardless. The gesture reminded her of all those birthdays and Christmases when Finn scrambled together whatever he could find to offer her as a gift. "Thank you very much," she says with sincerity pouring from her voice.

The little boy throws his arms around her and Raven falls back in surprise. "It's okay," he whispers in her ear as her arms loosely wrap around him. "One year Santa didn't bring me presents either. It doesn't always mean you're bad, sometimes it just means someone forgot to love you."

He scrambles from her arms and she lets him go, the tears building in her eyes without any way to slow them. "Excuse me," she mumbles as she pushes off of the couch. There's enough commotion that she hopes she's slipped out unnoticed. She turns the corner to the blessedly empty kitchen and doesn't fight the tears that fall from her eyes without volition.

Who else other than Wick would come to find her? "Are you okay?" he asks, taking one look at her and clearly knowing the answer.

"Are-are John and Hunter going to adopt those kids?" she asks around a sob that gathers in her throat. "Because someone needs to…someone…" she drops off, wiping at the tears as fast as they fall.

He reaches forward, one tentative hand placed on her shoulder. "They're trying to, yeah," he reassures her. "What's this about, Raven?" His eyes watch her with careful concern and she remembers what everyone keeps saying. She remembers how Octavia compared his stare to Lincoln's and what John had said in the kitchen just a couple hours earlier. For once she accepts that someone is concerned for her, not just about her. That it comes from a place of caring, not a selfish worry.

"He said that before now people just…forgot to love him." It doesn't make total sense and she knows that but all those messy emotions keep getting in the way of a proper explanation. She doesn't know how to say that there were so many years where people forgot to love her and how she tried so hard not to care. She wants to say that some hand drawn card by a few grade school children wasn't a symbol of love but she's overwhelmed just to have been thought of. And she feels weak for wanting and pathetic for needing, but she's so damn tired of convincing herself and everyone else that she didn't.

There are no words in her right now, though. Only thoughts and feelings and a swelling sadness. So she replaces every sentence and hope and memory with a hug. She throws her arms around his shoulders, ignoring the height difference and she clings to this stupid, annoying, co-worker turned friend like he was her lifeline. She'd had someone else be her lifeline before; she never wanted it to be that way again. But for Christmas morning she decides that she was going to let it happen, just for a few hours.

He hugs her back. Arms wrap around her and they feel strong and safe and secure in a way that she hasn't known in so many damn years.

She pushes away. Because she had this before and it went away.

She turns to hide her face, because it was her weaknesses that trapped someone to her years ago.

She walks from the room, because it was the inability to walk away that left her broken in the first place.