Young Justice One Shots / Imagines

Tim Drake || Underneath The Mistletoe

Title: Underneath the Mistletoe

Y/n - Your Name
E/c - Eye color
Note -  We need to talk.

-

"You don't know what fucking Christmas is?" Nightwing says, astounded.

"No, I don't know what Fucking Christmas is," you answer truthfully, "What is it?"

"No, there's no fucking in Christmas." Tim, sitting on your right, tells you.

"Well, maybe a little." Wally makes his presence known. You wave at him and he waves back.

"Shut up, Wally." Artemis hits the back of his head. You don't understand what they mean. You're still getting accustomed to modern slang.

"It's just Christmas," Tim explains. "It's a Holiday tradition. It's celebrated annually."

"Oh, like the Halloween and the Thanksgiving." You connect the dots.

"Yeah."

"So what happens on Christmas?" You look to him in search of knowledge. You're well aware that the others don't provide such appropriate answers.

"Well, it used to be a religion think about Christians, and Jesus's birth date-"

"I thought nobody knew when he was born."

"I suppose they took a wild guess. But yeah, so we celebrate it now to express thanks to one another. Like, hey I got you this gift because I really care about you. But you don't always get something in return, because it's like a spirit of giving."

"But Thanksgiving has thanks in it."

"Yeah but there's a more cruel history behind it, remember?"

"Oh yeah. So, are we going to prepare for the Christmas? Do we make more Turkey?"

You stand, ready to get productive as you feel the excitement of participating in another holiday.

Tim looks helplessly at the others who smile and shake their head. "Yeah, I suppose we could make more turkey."

"She makes good turkey anyway." Impulse is suddenly just there, on the couch.

You grab his hand, and drag him into the kitchen. "Sorry, my hands are clammy." You let go after a bit, knowing that there's a specific reason behind it that you rather would not explore.

"Why do you wear your mask?" You ask him suddenly, casually looking for the ingredients to lay out to make the Christmas turkey.

He seems taken aback by that question.
"W- I told you."

"Yeah, but-" You stop yourself, chewing on your bottom lip while you wonder if the sentence you were going to say is a bit too forward.

"But?"

"But I'm curious to see what your eyes look like." You say. His lips part in response, but no words come out.

Silently, you walk over to your phone given to you on Thanksgiving as a present. You turn it on and go to your app that plays music.

You play what is considered today as old music. In your opinion, you consider it good. There have been good new songs as well, but it's all rooted with the old. Or maybe that's just the thought that you've been living with for the past 12 years being held captive.

But hey, that's just you.

"My eyes are e/c and red." You say randomly, taking out a large packaged turkey from the freezer and putting it in the sink, running warm water over it to thaw it out.