Pinky didn't know where he was running to, but trusted his legs like he trusted his wheel. He'd get to where he needed to go. Continuing to cry as he ran, he mentally bopped himself for saying such mean things. It was Christmas, a time for joy, he shouldn't have been spending it yelling at his chubby hubby love, even if he did start it.

But Brain didn't even want to spend Christmas with him, didn't love him, and he didn't blame him. The one present his husband wanted was the world and Pinky had tried and failed before to get it for him. If he couldn't get him what he wanted most for Christmas then he must not be a very good husband. He wrote a letter to Santa, hoping some of his Christmas magic would help him, but now he'd been such a bad mouse, he was surely on Santa's naughty list. He wouldn't be getting his wish.

Pinky stumbled to a halt, wiping at his eyes. The tears made his face cold. Stinging. Oh, sure Brain had hurt his feelings by ripping his paper present angel and saying Christmas wasn't special and that he didn't need him, but his grumpy-grumbly husband was in a mood. He'd said and done similar things before; it wasn't like he meant them. Or maybe he really didn't love him anymore. Pinky whimpered, ankle deep in the snow, and turned around to trudge back to the lab to beg for his love's... well, love back.

An odd bleating sound reached his ears, making them twitch up despite the chill it caused the sensitive pink insides. Glancing across the street, he blinked at a goat standing on the corner. It was Mr. Sultana's goat.

Sniffling, Pinky rubbed at his cheeks again. "What're you doing out here all lonely and alone on Christmas?" he asked it, though the softness of his voice didn't allow the animal to hear him. "Oh, Mr. Sultana must be looking for you. Poit."

Since they were neighbors, and it would be on his way home, Pinky figured he would lead the goat back to his owner. With another bleat, the goat began to meander away.

"Come back, Mr. Sultana's goat!" Pinky called out, running after him. It startled the creature, forcing him to dart out into the street.

The Brain saw the goat. Saw it standing in the street right in the path of a pick-up truck carting various tools and construction cargo. The vehicle swerved, skidding on the ice glazed road. The horn pierced the air. On opposite sides of the street, Pinky and Brain watched, as frozen as the flurries falling to cling to their fur, while the goat leapt out of the way, the truck crashed, and it's cargo tumbled out. Then Brain was the only one watching.

"Pinky!" he shouted, sprinting through the snow in his desperation to help his husband. "Pinky, are you alright?! Pinky!"

They'd been hit by worse; crushed, bashed, smashed, run over, blown up, slammed, squished. But none of those things had ever made red blossom the way it did on the snow in the middle of December right under a pile of wooden planks. Staining the white. Red and white; like candy canes or Santa. How festive.

"Pinky!" The scream ripped from his throat as he scrambled to uncover him, frantic and wild. On his chest, where a stray nail protruding from a board impaled him, the festive colors bled together. His husband. "No, no, no, no, Pinky," he moaned, stroking his cheeks, squeezing them, slapping them for signs of life, but his lovely, beautiful blue eyes were dull and unseeing. "Pinky- Pinky, no-!"

In vain he tried to staunch the bleeding, but his fingers could only curl helplessly in his fur, clinging to his chest. He'd already been so cold, but Brain could feel the last of his warmth slipping through his grasp. His lover's life. Slipping away. All because he wouldn't spend Christmas with him.

Brain pressed his lips to his face, light kisses everywhere hoping for his nose to scrunch, his eyes to crinkle, his smile to blossom and part, his musical laughter to sing to him. The last sound he'd heard from him had been angry and heartbroken. Heartbroken. His husband had died heartbroken.

"No, no you're not." Brain cradled him, shaking his head over and over. "You can't. You can't." His breath hitched, heart jumping as his husband's face became damp with tears. Oh. Pink eyes traveled to his arm, shaking hard. He couldn't even clench his fist, but he could lift his fingers to his cheeks. He felt the tears before they blurred his vision, then they came streaming as his body convulsed on a harsh sob. "No, Pinky. No. Please. Please."

He couldn't move. Everything hurt and it wasn't until he was trembling so hard that it carried over to Pinky, his still body shaking so. Brain swallowed thickly, his mouth dry and his throat tight. He didn't know how long he spent kneeling in the snow, it may as well have been hours spent cradling his beloved, but he couldn't muster up the energy to move. Only when it looked like his husband was shivering from the cold did Brain finally get to his feet, lifting Pinky with him.

Both heavy and light at the same time, the smaller mouse choked back a pained moan. Pinky's head lolled over his arm, snowflakes painting his cheeks like tears. Like the tears he'd been shedding all because Brain wouldn't put his plans aside for one night. For one simple night to spend Christmas with his love. Bleary, empty pink eyes found the clock tower. It had been Christmas for half an hour now, Pinky had missed it. Brain hiccupped, stumbling as his knees nearly gave out. But he couldn't drop him. It was an unbearable journey, but he couldn't leave him. Couldn't leave him to freeze, to be buried in the snow, forgotten. No one would pay any mind to one little mouse, except perhaps a starving cat.

Brain stumbled again, this time landing on his knees in the snow, heart clenched at the thought. Or what would've been his heart if it were still there to beat. But without his husband's pumping in tandem with his, he was certain it had vanished.

"Pinky..." he whispered, staring glazedly at the quiet face. "Pinky, please. Please. I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

The megalomaniacal mouse wearily raised his head. A strange creature stood before him, something crossed between a dog and cat of some kind, black fur and a white face and floppy ears and a big, dopey, red nose not too different from his lover's own goofy one. His breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't fair.

"Helloooooooo? I said 'are you'?" The creature repeated, tapping the small mouse on top of his massive cranium.

Anger bubbled up inside him, quick and fast and ruthless, as he glared up at the intruder, swiping away at the hand even though it was far too large for him to do so, the size of a normal human child's. "What? What do you want?"

"Hey, hey, short stuff. The question isn't about what I want, but what you want." He pushed on his nose this time, making a small dent in his face until it popped back into shape. Brain held Pinky's body tighter with one arm as he rubbed as his nose.

"What the blazes are you talking about?" he grumbled. "Can't you see I'm busy? I have-" his breath hitched a moment, tears stinging his eyes once more, "I have things to take care of, if you don't mind."

"Riiiiiight." The creature crossed his arms and nodded emphatically. "Of course you do. Though isn't that what got you in this mess in the first place? You were too busy for Pinky here and couldn't take the time to show him a little love at Christmas?"

Brain's blood ran cold. "How do you-?" his voice cracked, throat dry. Wide eyes lifted to the face of his company, taking in a raised eyebrow. He cleared his throat. "Who are you? And I demand to know how long you've been following me and my husband!"

"Come on, Brain, don't you recognize your old co-star?" His eyebrows waggled, then let it slide. "Right, right. All high and mighty ever since you got your own cartoon. Well whoop-dee-doo." He twirled a finger in the air and shook his head, getting back into character. "I'm Yakko and I've not been following you so much as knowing everything you've ever done, ever. I'm an angel sent to you to give you a little present of sorts."

"An angel. Here to give me a present." The Brain didn't appear quite convinced, his expression bland and eyes hardening. "And what might that be?"

"Well if it were up to me, your present would be a nice, little tap on the head with an anvil for being such a sweetheart during the season. But that's not what the big guy had in mind." Yakko jerked his thumb up to the sky.

"The big guy," Brain deadpanned, then shook his head. "Sorry, but the only present I need or want would've been to spare his life." He cupped Pinky's cheek, stroking the snow away. "To have more time with him," he whispered.

"Today's your lucky day then, because that's exactly what you're getting," he announced in a game show host fashion, then leaned in close, cupping a hand around his mouth. "You're good at this."

"What?" Pink eyes blinked incredulously at him.

"Thaaaaaaaaat's right! You're getting an all-expenses paid trip to the luxurious, lemon-scented past! Three days absolutely free! But," Yakko paused to squint at the mouse, "it comes at a cost. You get three days to make everything up to Pinky, like you wanted, and keep him from dying with a broken heart, but come December twenty fourth at eleven fifty-eight at night, Pinky will meet his fate." As an aside, he added with a wink, "Now how's that for drama? Thought I could only do comedy, didn't ya?" Then he turned back to Brain.

The mouse rapidly attempted to calculate this. "But... how can that be? I mean, of course time travel is possible, I can do it myself, but..." He flicked his gaze from Pinky to Yakko. "An angel... hmph. There's no such thing. I'm clearly suffering from intense grief and hallucinating."

"I'm telling you, Brain, I am an angel." Yakko placed his palms together and smiled serenely, a little golden halo popping above his head.

"What proof do you have?"

"What? You mean like wings and stuff?" The halo flickered out as he waved his hand. "Ehhhhhhhhh... it's too ostentatious. You just hafta trust me on this. Angel's honor."

Brain's eyes narrowed, finally able to get to his feet, still cradling Pinky's limp body. "Trust you. Right. There's not a chance of a snowfall in in San Diego that I would trust you."

"Well, it's snowing here in Burbank, and that never happens," Yakko pointed out.

"Yes, well, it snowed here last Christmas during my Noodle Noggin plot, so I suppose there's continuity in that. Now if you'll excuse me, we must be getting home." He froze, trembling slightly as he realized what he said. "I mean... I must be... getting home."

"I can get you there a lot quicker." Snapping his fingers, and sending a flurry of snow right at Brain's eyes, the smaller mouse blinked rapidly, finding himself on the counter at ACME Labs. His head swiveled around, gaping in shock as he tucked Pinky's face into the crook of his neck as if to protect him. But the lack of the familiar tickle of his breath reminded him that it was a fruitless effort. He needed no protecting now.

Eyes watering, Brain held back his sniffles as the angel popped up beside him. He tried to ignore him as he collected himself, but his gaze bored holes into his defenses and they were crumbling before his very eyes.

"Believe me now?" Yakko asked, propping his elbows up on the counter, resting his face in his palms. "Aaaaangel."

Brain was silent a minute longer, taking the time to gently lower Pinky atop a cushion of crumpled tinsel from his failed plan. Gazing at his husband's face, he lightly traced from his closed eyelids to his jaw. Three days to spend with him, alive and moving and laughing and loving. "Why only three?" he asked quietly.

"It's the Christmas special. Usually it's only two, but we're throwing in the third free of charge." Yakko watched him for a moment, the mouse not once looking up from the lifeless one. "You know, it's a good deal. Not many people get a second chance, Brain, and you're practically being handed one. Why? Don't ask me, that's not my job to know, but you are."

"But he still has to..." His throat closed up around the word 'die', keeping it locked inside. "That's what you said, isn't it? He still has to meet his fate?"

"That's right."

Brain's fur bristled slightly. "Why? What's the point then?"

"The point is you get a second chance to give Pinky everything you want to give him right now. To allow him to die without any regrets, and to allow you to live without any regrets."

"I... that's not good enough. Why can't I just go back in time myself and stop this from happening at all? Take a time machine and do it myself. I can do that." He smoothed back the tussled fur atop Pinky's head. "I can do that."

"The big guy's not down with that idea, and when he's not down with something, trust me, it's not gonna end pretty for you," Yakko told him. "I'd just take him up on his offer if I were you." The angel straightened and dusted himself off. "Well, I've gotta get going. Got another cameo on my list of things to do. Oh, and before I forget! You can't tell Pinky a thing about what's happened. As soon as you tell him that he's gonna die on Christmas Eve, it'll be like your three days never happened." With a two-fingered salute, Yakko vanished in a blink, the only thing lingering was his wish of a, "Merry Christmas!"

The Brain stared at where he'd been, blinking at the empty space. All he could hear was his ragged breathing. Swallowing thickly, he looked at Pinky and brushed a light kiss to his lips before lifting him once again and carrying him to their cage. If this was all some hallucination, then he would decide what to do with him in the morning.

If not... then maybe he wouldn't have to.

Poor Pinky... Poor Brain...
Why must one of them always die? :c

But is angel Yakko telling the truth?

Wait and seeeeeee...

It took me a while to decide if I really wanted Yakko to be the angel, but in the end, I just thought he fit best xD In the spirit of Animaniacs and cameos, I figured, why not?