He remembers Christmas Eve of last year, being crazy nervous about spending his first holiday season with a girlfriend and super paranoid that she'd hate the gift he'd gotten for her--the key, the stars he'd named after them, the telescope he'd set up on the roof that's still up there for community sharing even though they know what it's really meant for--but there's nothing to be nervous or paranoid about now. That doesn't make spending Christmas with Kate any less exciting, it doesn't make their lives boring because he doesn't think their lives could ever be boring; it just makes him happier.
This is what they get to do now, he realizes. They get to spend this Christmas and every Christmas after it together, married and in love and without wishing things could be different because they have each other. Christmastime at the 'Dome had always been so goddamn depressing, if only because most people there had never really had it in them to celebrate. Newt can understand why, a lot of people in the Resistance had joined because they'd lost their family and loved ones to the destruction the kaiju had caused, but he hadn't. He'd wanted more than to be forced to watch all the grim faces pass him by in the hallways, to be met with something other than an eye roll when he'd wished someone a merry Christmas. Hermann had tried to give that to him--though he'd put more into it some years than others--and Pentecost had always met him with a firm pat on the back, most often accompanied by nothing more than silence; but Newt had missed what Christmas had been like when he'd been a kid, when he'd still been living in Berlin with his family.
It's different now. He wishes he could see his parents again, just once, even if it's just for a second so he knows how they're doing. Newt wonders if there's a version of him who can go home for the holidays now that the kaiju are gone and the world can rebuild; or maybe alternate him is just as busy making sure it never happens again. Either way, it doesn't really matter now because he's here. He has friends, chosen family, and he has Kate.
"It is great," he says, his tone soft and sincere, and he gives her an earnest smile because they can joke, they can tease, but in the end, he really fucking loves this woman. She's the reason he'd stopped looking for a way out of here, after all, the only person in Darrow who could have convinced him--even if she hadn't really been trying--that being here isn't so bad. "It's great, and I love being married to you, and I just really love you. Don't let it go to your head, though."
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This is what they get to do now, he realizes. They get to spend this Christmas and every Christmas after it together, married and in love and without wishing things could be different because they have each other. Christmastime at the 'Dome had always been so goddamn depressing, if only because most people there had never really had it in them to celebrate. Newt can understand why, a lot of people in the Resistance had joined because they'd lost their family and loved ones to the destruction the kaiju had caused, but he hadn't. He'd wanted more than to be forced to watch all the grim faces pass him by in the hallways, to be met with something other than an eye roll when he'd wished someone a merry Christmas. Hermann had tried to give that to him--though he'd put more into it some years than others--and Pentecost had always met him with a firm pat on the back, most often accompanied by nothing more than silence; but Newt had missed what Christmas had been like when he'd been a kid, when he'd still been living in Berlin with his family.
It's different now. He wishes he could see his parents again, just once, even if it's just for a second so he knows how they're doing. Newt wonders if there's a version of him who can go home for the holidays now that the kaiju are gone and the world can rebuild; or maybe alternate him is just as busy making sure it never happens again. Either way, it doesn't really matter now because he's here. He has friends, chosen family, and he has Kate.
"It is great," he says, his tone soft and sincere, and he gives her an earnest smile because they can joke, they can tease, but in the end, he really fucking loves this woman. She's the reason he'd stopped looking for a way out of here, after all, the only person in Darrow who could have convinced him--even if she hadn't really been trying--that being here isn't so bad. "It's great, and I love being married to you, and I just really love you. Don't let it go to your head, though."