Sorry for all of the missed updates. This is the last night of my vacation so things should be back to normal for a few days. Hope you enjoy the end of the Christmas fluff!

Wick's POV

As he watches Raven walk out of the kitchen Wick knows she's swiping away the last of the tears that are going to fall as she goes. His heart is heavy, his arms suddenly like lead with the weight of her now gone. There had been a lot of things he might have expected during the festivities of Christmas surrounded by his extended family. One of them was not the partial breakdown of Raven Reyes in his aunt's kitchen.

After she's gone he feels stuck. Like his feet are glued to the floor, his eyes fixed on the wall she'd been standing against moments earlier. There had been quite a few different sides of Raven that he'd had the honour to encounter. He had seen her soft spots, her weaker moments. But nothing like that, nothing similar to the tears for an unloved little boy. He wishes that's all it was. He wishes Raven didn't see herself in little James.

"Are you seriously scoping out for more food?" Echo asks when she walks in the kitchen, her swollen stomach leading the way. "And if so, did you find anything?" In other circumstances he'd probably laugh. Instead he just turns away from the wall and faces his cousin. "Are you okay?" she asks. Though they weren't close, by distance or relationship wise, Echo had been there when shit went down. Just like the rest of the extended family, they had all clogged his house and cooked casseroles food in his mom's kitchen and cleaned out his sister's bedroom. They'd all been there when the people who should be were suddenly gone. Echo was the one who had been best at letting him be sad. Everyone else was constantly trying to distract him or cheer him up. Echo knew how to find him in the darkness and not be afraid to join him. "Thinking about your family?"

Wick looks up, because he hadn't been but now he was. "You guys are my family," he answers, his own voice sounding foreign.

Echo nods, her hand running along her stomach. "It's not the same though," she says because somehow she's always managed to understand. "I couldn't imagine us not all being here for Christmas, Mom freaking out about the garland on the tree or Dad worrying over who's blocking who in the driveway."

Somehow she switches from making him feel better in her understanding to making him ache with her truth. "Yeah," he says by way of acknowledgement. "Have you seen Raven?"

Her face softens, each feature smoother and sadder for him. "She's back in the living room. I'd give her some space."

Despite how quickly Raven may have reined in her emotions, the evidence of her outburst was sure to be clear still. He sighs, trying not to let the feelings weigh him down any further. "Thanks," he whisper before walking back into the living room.

"There you are," his aunt exclaims, herding Wick back onto the couch. "I'm trying to give out presents and you're off stealing more cookies from the kitchen."

He wipes away the sadness and paints on a mischievous grin, just the thing to get his aunt to buy her own story she created. Raven sits dully next to him, not making a move away or towards him. Wick reaches out and squeezes her good knee near him as he moves to accept his small pile of presents. With no one left to do it, his aunt and uncle had taken over the mandatory parent Christmas gifts. Socks, toothpaste, a new wallet, the sort of things that one needs that only parents would think to get. "Thanks guys," he tells him sincerely when he opens the last of his gifts, a winter jacket that he'd been desperately in need of.

"I wanna wear Uncle Wick's Jacket!" Charlotte declares excitedly, abandoning her toys.

Her grandmother waves her over and Charlotte obeys, listening as directions are whispered into her ear. She perks up immediately and darts back under the tree, emerging with another small stack of gifts.

She holds them out to Raven who takes them hesitantly. "It's nothing big, sweetheart," his aunt says from across the room. "But we couldn't not get you something."

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't get you-"

"Nonsense," she cuts her off. "We don't keep score in this family."

Most of the time Raven has some sort of comeback, about a dozen or so reasons not to accept gifts or compliments or help, but she nods and smiles instead. Wick is a little astounded, the card from earlier must have worn her down.

She gets many of the same things he did, gloves, an electric toothbrush, a bottle of lotion. All small things but she lights up at each and every one, expressing her gratitude as she unwraps them.

The presents are declared officially over after that, and the kids immediately run upstairs to change into snow clothes. They'd all received sleds for Christmas and this fresh snow fall was perfectly timed. It continued to come down at a steady pace even now, the total amount accumulating nearly a foot.

"You too might need to stay another night," his uncle says gruffly as he looks out the window. "The last thing we need is anyone getting hurt on the way home." He had his own form of protectiveness. Especially after what happened with Wick's parents. There hadn't been a drop of alcohol in the house for two years after it happened.

"We'll see how it clears," Wick answers with a glance in Raven's direction. She was probably more than ready to go home.

The family room is all cleared out as quickly as it had been filled this morning. Everyone makes it outside, parents supervising and grandparents taking enough pictures to fill photo albums to account for at least three years of Christmases. Raven and Wick stay seated on the couch, his leg pressed up against hers and her eyes fixed on the lit tree in front of them.

He gets up and doesn't say a word as he walks from the room. He runs down to the basement and grabs what he needs, reappearing before she's moved an inch.

Raven watches him with cautious eyes as he sits down next to her again, holding out a poorly wrapped gift. "Wick…" she sighs, looking from the present in his extended hand to him.

"Come on," he argues, waving it in her face. "You didn't give my aunt any shit."

"I was afraid she was going to force feed me gravy and biscuits and christen herself godmother of my unborn children if I didn't comply." Her voice is still hollow but he laughs regardless, that is exactly the sort of fear his aunt could strike in your heart.

"Just…take the damn gift, Raven."

She does, testing its weight on the palm of her hand and teasing him by shaking it near her ear. "It's a Barbie," she taunts, infusing the joking tone back into her voice.

"Dream life mechanic Barbie 2k16," he jokes back because he could totally see Raven being the kid who wanted things like that. Then he remembers that it was probably a lot more simplistic things that she wanted.

Tearing off the paper she doesn't hide her surprise when she reads what the set of books say. "Official certification study guide for mechanics," she murmurs under her breath. Her gaze goes from the books to him and back to the books. "This is way too much."

"I put the money I would have spent getting my truck fixed on it," he explains with a shrug. "It didn't make or break me either way." He knows she's going to argue and is hardly surprised by the opening and closing over her mouth as she tries to defend the fact that he's ridiculous. "Use them, study them, and then go become the best goddamn seventeen year old mechanic this nation has ever seen."

"Eighteen," she corrects, still staring awestruck at the series of study manuals in her hands. It was a terrible gift really, but one he knew she would appreciate. It was a gift that could make a difference for her. The fine line between surviving off of barely enough paychecks and hardly any sleep, and living doing what she loves and having something in the bank to show for it. "I'd be the best goddamn eighteen year old mechanic the nation has ever seen."

Wick pauses, he knew that she'd been seventeen not that long ago. "You never told me you had a birthday," he accuses.

She shrugs, uncaring of his accusatory tone. "Hardly seemed important," she mumbles. He's ready to launch into all the reasons why it is when she stands from the couch, books still in arm as she makes her way to the basement door.

"Where are you going?"

She looks back at him, lips quirked up at the corners. "I'm hardly going to let everyone else have all the fun," she says before disappearing downstairs.

He waits a minute, staring after her, and then he follows. He pauses on the stairs, completely not expecting to walk down to find Raven removing her shirt, leaving her bare back in view. In an attempt not to be a total perv he clears his throat and covers his eyes. "What exactly kind of fun are you having?" he asks, unable to keep from smirking at his own suggestive comment.

Though he can't see anything, he can imagine Raven turning to face him and rolling her eyes. "Shut up," she sighs and he hears the sounds of velcro being pulled loose. Cautiously he makes his way down the rest of the stairs, using his other hand to guide him. "Everyone else is outside sledding and having fun and we're in here missing out."

Instinct is to ask about her leg. Common sense is to warn her to be careful. "You make a good point, Reyes," is what will make her the happiest. Over in the corner with his own belongings he opens his eyes, keeping them downcast as he rifles through his bag. He hears her struggle over on the bed, pulling her skinny jeans on once again no doubt. Though he wants to offer help he stays right where he is, pulling his own pyjama shirt off and replacing it with something warmer.

"Hurry up, slow poke!" she taunts, letting him know that he could turn back around now. She's pulling on that jacket again, the one he gave her, and zipping it up to her chin. "We're going to miss out on all the fun."

Wick shakes his head but hurries his movements regardless, trying not to be hyperaware of the fact that Raven stood there, silently watching him. "Do you mind?" he asks as he goes to shuck his pants.

With a shrug she turns around. "Are you worried I'll be overcome with desire at the sight of your bare legs?"

He hates her a little bit. "I've heard it's quite the problem," he attempts to joke back. He was doing his best to pretend that was not what he wanted. (And also trying to remind other parts of his body of this fact.) "Why don't you go find some scarves and gloves in this place?"

She hmphs on her way up the stairs but doesn't say anything else. He falls onto the bed once he hears the door to upstairs slam shut. She was too damn much.

Outside it's even more miserably cold than Wick had anticipated. His aunt stands off to the side of the activity, camera in hand and smile plastered on. 'I'm a very lucky woman,' she would always say in moments like these. 'A long life and surrounded by my grandchildren.' Wick was glad she was appreciative. He'd prefer if she didn't blatantly remind him that his mom would never get to be so lucky.

Kyle doesn't hesitate to join in on the activities, teaching the kids the best way to push off in order to go fastest. He pushes them down the hills and he rides down with Sasha snuggled on his lap, a death grip on his jacket.

At first Raven struggles with getting up the bank of snow to where the top of the hill was. Wick didn't say anything as he came up behind her, swinging and arm around her shoulders. "I'm fucking tired, Reyes," he puffs out. "Help me up there?" Obviously she's well aware what he's doing. She throws an arm around him as well though and allows him to half carry her up the hill.

"I wanna go with Aunt Raven!" the kids start shouting, fighting over who gets to go down on Raven's lap.

She laughs at the fighting but Wick tightens his arm on her shoulder. "Get in line, munchkins. I get to go first." There are several cries of 'not fair!' but he ignores them, taking one of the sleds and helping her to sit on it. "Hope you weren't too attached to any of your body parts," he jokes with a wink before jumping on and sending them both flying down the hill.

He expects tight hands and loud screams of fear. Instead she throws her hands in the air and squeals with delight, sounding as joyful as the kids did. The sled hits a bump, throwing both of them off and leaving Wick face first in the snow. He pops up, immediately seeking Raven out. She doubled over in laughter, snow caked in her hair, but she points a finger at his own frost covered face and giggles endlessly.

"Pull it together," he says, running a hand down his face to get the snow off. He can't be properly mad though, not when she laughs like that. He goes over to help her and she pulls him down, packing snow in her bare hands and throwing it across the foot and a half of distance. "Is that how this is going to go down?" he asks, more than happy to comply with her childish behaviours. If she wanted a snow fight he was more than willing to give her a snow fight. And if she thought he was going to let her win then she had something new coming to her. It's a mess of half-formed snow balls and some slight grappling. Their hands are freezing and their hair striped in ice crystals. The whole time they're both trying to contain their laughter. Raven takes advantage of when he's paused, his gaze stuck watching her. She slams into him, knocking him back onto the snow and then takes a handful of snowing, holding it tauntingly over his face.

He loses. But in his defence, she fights dirty.

Back inside the kids, and most of the adults, are immediately sent to change as his aunt makes hot chocolate. Wick finishes changing first, trading out his clothes while Raven isn't blatantly staring this time around. He walks back up to the kitchen and sits himself on one of the counter tops.

It doesn't take long for his aunt to whip him with the towel, telling him to get down. "She's a lovely girl," she comments, eyes fixed on the hot chocolate powder she stirred in. "Where did you find her?"

Wick smiles, because he hadn't found her, not really. She'd been given to him. Be it from the universe or a series of coincidences or Raven herself. But he hadn't been the one to find her. She wasn't the type to let herself be found unless that was what she wanted. "We both work at the hospital," is all he bothers saying, taking the cup of cocoa she offers.

Aunt Mary Anne looks ready to reprimand him on his gratuitous use of marshmallows, but says nothing. "So what's her story?" she asks instead. People didn't just come with friends to an out of state family Christmas. His aunt knew there was some back story to go along with the girl.

Wick thinks about it, wondering how to explain something he still didn't fully understand himself. He's cut off from his answer as little James comes running downstairs, John running after him with a handful of laundry. "The clothes monster will get you!" he grunts after the boy, eliciting a scream.

With a smile Wick watches them, remembering the words the little boy had spoken earlier to Raven. "Someone forgot to love her," he answers, giving his aunt a sad smile.

She pats his cheek, rubbing her thumb across the bone like his mom always used to. "Well then it's a good thing she has you."