Janie sang quietly to herself as she moved around the giant Christmas tree squatting in the center of the penthouse. She was never sure why her parents kept ordering an enormous tree every year--they were never even around to celebrate most of the time--but that was fine. Janie enjoyed decorating it by herself anyways.

"You having fun?"

Janie yelped in surprise, dropping the box of ornaments she was carrying. "Sorry," Weir apologized sheepishly from the doorway. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I-It's fine," Janie mumbled, crouching down to pick up the shattered remains of the ornaments. "I--I never really liked these ones a-anyways."

Weir sighed and walked over, resting a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Did you see the ornament Taxi gave us?" he asked.

Janie glanced up in surprise. "Taxi got us an ornament?"

"Well, he more of...made it himself and forced it into my hands, but..." He reached under the tree and pulled out a half-unwrapped package. Inside was a crudely made yellow clay taxi that looked as if a bottle of glitter had thrown up on it. The words "Merry Christmas!" was scrawled messily on the side.

"He gave one to every gang member," Weir explained with a shrug. "I don't know what you want to do with it."

Janie pressed her hand to her lips, stifling a laugh. "It's perfect," she smiled, quickly standing up and taking the taxi ornament from her brother. "It'll go right in the center of the tree."

Weir watched with amusement as his sister carefully hung the ornament on their giant tree. "Merry Christmas, Janie."

Janie beamed happily at him. "Merry Christmas, Jonny."

-

"We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Calder sang at the top of his lungs as he waltzed through the tiny apartment with the box of ornaments, the glittering set of felt antlers flopping up and down on his head. Somehow, he had managed to squeeze his broad shoulders into possibly the ugliest sweater in existence--garish red and green stripes colored the sleeves, and a tacky looking Christmas tree was sewn onto the front. And to top it all off, Calder had managed to get a few of his fellow engineering students at the university to make his sweater light up.

"Now bring us some figgy pudding, now bring us some figgy pudding!" Laughing, Calder set down the box and began taking out various ornaments, scattering them every which way on the (fake) tree standing in the living room. "Now bring us some figgy pudding, now bring it right--"

A light tap on his shoulder stopped him mid-lyric. Still smiling, he turned around to see Allie staring shyly up at him, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Hey, Allie," he grinned, quickly hanging up the last ornament he was holding.

Allie giggled softly and reached over to move the ornament over a couple of branches.

Calder chuckled, carefully wrapping his arm around Allie's shoulders. "I forget, you're the artist here," he laughed.

Allie just smiled and shook her head, fixing a few other misplaced ornaments on the tree. Once she had finished, she turned back to Calder and cheerfully reached into her coat pocket.

"Is that--" Calder cut himself off with a joyful laugh, beaming at the red ball nose in Allie's hand. "Did you get that for me?"

Allie nodded brightly, reaching over and popping the ball onto Calder's nose. Another soft giggle escaped her lips at the sight, and she rushed forward, hugging him tightly.

Calder smiled down at her. "Merry Christmas to you to, Allie."

-

"We wish you a merry--ow, shit!"

Books yanked her hand back, pressing her cut thumb to her lips. Now that the Delanceys--and their crazy extended surrogate family--had their own apartment, they decided to actually decorate for Christmas, which meant digging out extremely old and dusty Christmas decorations from the backs of their closets and drawers. Scout ended up donating most of his old stuff to the little haphazard family, and while everyone was very appreciative, Books did wish he had warned them that a good chunk of the ornaments were broken.

“Hey,” Morris asked, quietly slipping his arms around her waist. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Books sighed, leaning back into his hold. “Just cut myself on another broken ornament...again…”

Morris chuckled and lightly pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you want me to get you another band-aid?”

Books shook her head. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll get it myself.” Smiling, she twisted around to press a quick kiss to his lips before untangling herself from his arms. Morris watched her leave with a blithe smile, humming softly under his breath as he returned to sorting through Christmas decorations.

His eyes brightened when he spied a dusty sprig of mistletoe sitting at the bottom of one of the boxes. Quickly, he grabbed a piece of tape from his desk and stuck the mistletoe onto the doorframe, grinning mischievously at his handiwork.

“Alright, I’m back--” Books stopped short, eyes fixed on the top of the doorway. “Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”

Morris grinned cheekily. “Surprise, babe.”

Books rolled her eyes, taking a step closer. “You know, you’re probably gonna regret that,” she smirked.

Morris let out a laugh. “No, I don’t think I--”

He was cut off as Books grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down into a fervent kiss. Immediately, his hands found their way to her hips, scratching and pulling at the fabric of her hoodie. “El…”

Books grinned in triumph, snaking her arms around his neck and kissing him even harder. “Merry Christmas, babe,” she whispered teasingly.

Morris pulled back for a moment, staring down at her with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. And then, he all but yanked her into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

The decorations could wait.

-

"We wish you a merry FUCK YOU, we wish you a merry FUCK YOU, we wish you a merry FUCK YOU, and a SHITTY NEW YEAR!"

Kai huffed angrily, throwing the screwdriver down onto the workbench. She hated Christmas. Everything about it--the cheerful glittering lights, the giant Christmas trees, the fake Santas on every corner asking for money--made her simply want to puke.

"What's so great about Christmas anyway?" she muttered to no one in particular, hefting up her toolbox. "Just some stupid holiday to remind people how lonely they are..."

Something gently nudged her leg. "What the--"

Kai glanced down to see Tyrant gazing up at her, his blue photoreceptors blinking innocently. Hooked onto his tail segment was a tiny, miserable looking Christmas tree.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned, glaring down at her robot. "No."

Tyrant blinked up at her again and nudged the tree towards her. Kai could've sworn the branches drooped even lower.

"You couldn't have even stolen a nice looking one?"

Tyrant nudged her leg more earnestly.

"Ugh...fine. Just this once."

Reluctantly, Kai grabbed a handful of spare parts and wiring and scattered them among the branches, frowning in concentration as she tried to make sure the pathetic tree wouldn't collapse under the weight. When she had finished, she fashioned a small piece of scrap metal into a vague star shape a plopped it on top of the tree.

...It actually didn't look half-bad.

With a tiny smile, Kai reached down to let the robot climb up onto her shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Tyrant."

The scene around them had gone eerily quiet. Even the vicious roar of the flames dulled down to a whisper as Hiro stared pleadingly up at his brother.

And then, Tadashi was gone, racing up the steps towards the burning building.

But Hiro wasn't anything if he wasn't stubborn.

"TADASHI!" he all but screamed, lunging after his brother. His hand caught the back of Tadashi's blazer.

"What-" Tadashi whirled around, his eyes wide. "Hiro, I told you, let me-"

BOOM.

The two brothers flew backwards, crashing into the pavement. Tadashi's head cracked against the cold concrete, stars swimming in his vision as he tried to regain his bearings. "Hiro…" he mumbled. "Hiro!" His ears felt like they were filled with cotton, still ringing from the sound of the explosion. Sirens wailed in the distance, but all Tadashi cared about was the hazy sound of his brother's voice, still screaming out his name.

"Tadashi!"

"Hiro…"

Blazing embers rained down upon them, chunks of burning rubble and ash like snow. The exposition hall had begun to collapse.

"Tadashi!"

"Hiro!"

More people were coming now, paramedics and firemen frantically barking out orders. Weakly, Tadashi felt his hand brush up against a familiar hoodie-Hiro's hoodie.

"Hiro…" He carefully lifted up his head, suddenly aware of a wet feeling trickling down his neck.

His younger brother hurriedly crawled closer, one hand clutching Tadashi's signature baseball cap close to his chest. "C'mon," he coughed out. "We-We gotta go."

Tadashi nodded, dazedly trying to stumble to his feet. Almost immediately, though, his knees gave way, and he collapsed back down onto the pavement. Smoke burned through his lungs, the ash stinging his eyes. Quickly, Hiro slung his arm beneath his brother's chest, hauling him to his feet.

"You-You alright?" Tadashi asked, wrapping his arm around Hiro's shoulders in order to keep himself steady.

Despite himself, Hiro let out a short laugh. "You're really the one asking me that?"

Tadashi chuckled weakly in response. "I have to, I'm your older broth-" He broke off in a violent fit of coughs, and Hiro quickly moved to steady him.

Paramedics soon swarmed around them, quickly taking Tadashi and helping him into an ambulance. Hiro watched his brother go nervously, barely paying attention to the paramedics fussing around him. Blood had soaked through the elbow of his sweatshirt, but he hardly registered the pain. All he could think about was Tadashi.

Tadashi was going to be okay.

He had to be.

If there was one thing Hiro hated, it was hospitals. The sterile smell stung his nostrils, even more so now with the ash and smoke still infesting his lungs. An unbearable silence pressed in on him from all sides. It was far too tense, too nervous waiting in the lobby; if nothing happened anytime soon, Hiro swore he would scream. The pristine white walls, the shining tiles, the harsh light of the parking lot's street lamps flooding through the windows all seemed to mock his pain as he waited anxiously for news on his brother.

"Hiro, please stop pacing," said Honey Lemon gently from her seat. "You need to rest-"

"I can't!" he snapped, much more harshly than he intended. Nervously, he tugged a hand through his already messy black hair, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment. "What if Tadashi's not okay, o-or he's hurt really badly, or…"

"Dude, chill," Gogo remarked, her legs draped across the cold metal arm of the lobby chair. "You saw Tadashi get into the back of the ambulance, right? He'll be fine."

Hiro swallowed back the lump in his throat. Tadashi had taken the brunt of the explosion when it hit; while Hiro only had a scraped elbow and a couple of bruises to show for it, his brother had at the very least a head wound. Hiro may not have been well versed in medical science, but from the way his brother was stumbling around after the explosion, he figured it couldn't have been good.

A doctor called for the Hamada family, and Aunt Cass quickly sprang up and hurried over, her hands clutched to her chest in fear. With a sigh, Hiro sank down into the vacant seat, slumping wearily against the hard plastic. How long had they been here? Three hours now? Four? Wasabi had already left, insisting that he had to adhere to his precise sleeping schedule but giving the Hamadas his condolences anyways, and Fred was snoring comfortably in the corner, sprawled out across three different chairs. Both Honey and Gogo were still relatively alert though, with Honey doing her best to comfort both Aunt Cass and Hiro. Gogo just simply refused to leave.

"Hey," she said, gently nudging Hiro's arm. "It's be okay. Tadashi's a strong man. He'll pull through."

Hiro frowned, fiddling absently with the zipper of his jacket. "Yeah, but-"

"Hiro."

Hiro's head shot up at the sound of Aunt Cass' voice. "The doctors said we can go visit Tadashi now," she told him.

Quick as a flash, Hiro leapt out of his seat and scrambled over, scrawny limbs flailing as he rushed to Aunt Cass' side. "Where is he? Is he okay? What happened to him?" Questions tumbled frantically out of the young boy's mouth, his brown eyes wide.

Aunt Cass chuckled softly. "Whoa, hey, slow down kiddo," she smiled. "Tadashi's fine. He had a concussion and a bad cut on the back of his head, but the doctors were able to stitch him up, and he'll be as good as new in no time."

Relief washed over Hiro's face. "Oh thank God." Quickly, he turned around and gestured to the rest of the group. "C'mon!"

Hiro and Aunt Cass hurried through the winding hallways, closely followed by Honey, Gogo and (a still rather groggy) Fred. Eventually, they came to a stop in front of a room labeled '614'.

"Tadashi?" Hiro called out tentatively, pushing the door open a crack.

His brother lay propped up in the hospital bed, casually flipping through a magazine one of the nurses had given him. A thick bandage was wrapped around his head, but other than that, he looked perfectly fine. Just normal, calm, collected Tadashi-even his hair still seemed perfectly combed. Unbelievable.

Tadashi glanced up at the sound of his brother's voice. "Took you long enough, bonehead," he joked, setting down the magazine.

"Hey, you're the one calling me bonehead?" Hiro replied, one eyebrow raised as he walked closer. "You're the one who tried to run into a burning building."

Tadashi pursed his lips in mock thought. "True, true."

Hiro stood at his brother's bedside for a moment, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, before pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're okay," he mumbled.

Tadashi smiled, gently returning his embrace. "Me too." His eyes flickered over the rest of the group standing there, and a worried frown slowly formed on his face. "Hey, is everyone else alright?" he asked. "What happened? Did they find Professor Callaghan?"

Honey and Gogo shared a look. "Tadashi…" Honey began, hands fumbling with the strap of her purse. "The firefighters looked everywhere, they really did, but…"

"They couldn't find his body," Gogo interjected. " Professor Callaghan's dead."