Characters/Pairings: Micah Sanders, Monica Dawson
Warnings: Mentions of past character death
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC, et al.
A/N: Written for nbc_las for the prompt: Tell a story centered around a December holiday
Summary: Micah and Monica try to spread some Christmas cheer.
“Ok, how’s that look?” Monica muttered to herself, tugging the last strand of lights into position. She took a step to the side to look over the roof and nodded in satisfaction. “Good.” She fastened the end of the strand down and took a quick glance around. Seeing no one looking, she leapt from the roof of the house to the roof of the shed, and then flipped to the ground without a second through.
“Micah!” she called in a low voice. “Go!”
Micah put his hand on the fuse box and told it sternly to behave itself and not stick. Meekly, the switch flipped, and the exterior of the house was bathed in warm, white light. He walked out of the garage to join his cousin, locking the door behind him.
“It looks great,” Monica said, putting an arm around Micah as they surveyed their handiwork. All up and down the street, lights glimmered from rooftops and windows, bringing Christmas to a street too hard hit from the hurricane and lost jobs to have taken it on themselves. When everyone came back from the church dinner, they’d have a surprise.
“This looks wonderful,” Monica said with satisfaction, hugging her cousin.
Micah looked up and down the street and bit his lip. “Mom loved the lights,” he said softly.
Mom had loved getting them out, and Dad loved getting up on the roof to place them, making pictures or spelling out holiday greetings. They hadn’t always had much for Christmas, but they’d at least had the lights.
Monica hugged Micah closer, letting his tears soak into her jacket sleeve without saying a word. It was his first Christmas without either parent, his father dead saving his mother a year ago, and his mother only six months gone, saving Monica’s life.
“I love them too,” Monica said quietly. Micah sniffed once and scrubbed at his eyes, looking up and down the street.
“I want to do another block,” Micah said with determination.
“You sure?” Monica asked, hefting the duffle bag of lights under her arm. It was getting close to eight o’clock, and Nana would start to worry about where they were.
“I… I want Mom and Dad to see,” Micah said, so quietly Monica almost didn’t hear him.
Monica bit her lip, and looked up into the sky. Then she smiled and jerked her head down the block.
“Come on. If we’re going to make New Orleans rival Vegas, we need to get going!”
Micah grinned back at her, and broke into a run as they dashed down the street to spread Christmas cheer.