"It's that time of year again," Peter stated, looking at Neal with great concern.

"I know." Neal looked and utterly totally freaked out.

"I'd better get the guest bedroom ready. And put some blankets on the couch as well."

"Yeah." Neal shuddered. "I suppose I'd better ask June to go away for the holidays, and make sure Mozzie disappears until the New Year as well."

"I'll ask El to get plenty of cold and flu medicine in, plus pain medication and lots of hot chocolate too."

Neal sighed, resigned to his fate. Peter gave him a sad smile and patted his shoulders reassuringly.

"You'll get through it, Neal. You always do. Well, except when you don't, but our author doesn't read or write main character death fics, so they don't exist as far as she's concerned, which means you'll be fine. Eventually."

"That," Neal said, pausing dramatically. "Is not very reassuring."

"I know, I know. But hey, not long now and all those Christmas whump fics will be over and done with. Then it's just back to the normal levels of whump..."

"It's so not fair," Neal whined. "You don't get whumped half as much as I do! And why did someone start Fandom Stockings? That generates even more whump! It's bad enough there's a White Collar Hurt/Comfort comm, without adding another layer of whumpage on top!"

"Yeah, well," Peter shrugged. "What can you do? Fans will be what fans will be."

"Still not fair," Neal muttered, turning to walk across the icy sidewalk and slipping on the icy ice - and promptly breaking an arm in the process.

Neal grimaced in pain and then sighed.

"Here we go again."