SPD Holiday Series- Chanukah Night 2
Title: Chanukah, Night 2
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Rating: K/G/general audience
Summary: In the Holiday Series. Second of eight fics for Chanukah.
Disclaimer: not mine, alas.
Sunday December 22, 2008
Four years old
It was the second night of Chanukah and Bridge was in his usual spot. He stood by the big picture window in the living room, staring. Just staring. He was a big boy now, his mother said so all the time. He was talking, learning to express himself, even figuring out how to interact with people and filter the combating signals the world around him threw at him. And he was finally level with the chanukiah on the small table. He could look straight ahead and not crane his neck up just to see. His mother had lit the candles and they were still there burning brightly. They were getting low and the flames leapt and flickered, the light they cast dancing around him.
He heard the knock at the door but didn’t turn. He already knew who was there. He hadn’t seen her face, but he’d seen the soft white glow she emanated. His mother beckoned her inside and Bridge knew he was supposed to turn and greet her, to use his words to acknowledge her presence, but the candles were so pretty and they wouldn’t last much longer. It was his favourite part of the holiday and he couldn’t bear to look away just yet. He could listen though, so he tried to focus on their conversation as well as the comforting flames.
“I’m sorry to intrude on your home, Hannah, but I just couldn’t wait until his Wednesday session,” the visitor said. His mother hugged her.
“You’re not intruding, not at all! You’re always welcome here. We were going to have some sufganiyot, it’s a type of jelly donut, once the candles burn out. He won’t leave that spot until they’re done. You should stay.” They moved to the couch and the candles flickered wildly with the movement of air when they walked past. He held his breath until they settled, hoping they wouldn’t go out. They didn’t. He let out the breath slowly so as not to disturb the flames further.
“I had an idea. He was telling me Friday what people look like now that he wears long sleeves and pants all the time. He says he can see faces. He says he didn’t understand before and now we look like angels. I think he’s still getting trace auras.” He knew they were both looking at him, but the shamash snuffed out and the others were getting close. The flames were slowly shrinking, fading into the rapidly vanishing pools of melted wax. It was almost time.
“I suspected as much. He describes people based on colour, and we’re not talking black or white. He told Mrs. Cawthorne across the street he was sorry she was so blue and grey all the time since Mr. Cawthorne had died and he hoped she could go back to being all reds and pinks again soon. Poor thing never heard him speak before. She was amazed. Didn’t understand him, but shocked he could speak at all.” The first candle sputtered and died. He held his breath as the second faded to a small blue flicker.
“I think it’s his hands. He’s getting most of his information through his hands. So I wanted to try an experiment. The sooner the better. If it works, he may not need sessions with me any longer. He could function somewhat normaly.” The last flame gave up the fight and snuffed out in a puff of smoke. He turned to the couch where his mother and the visitor were sitting. He was finally ready to acknowledge them.
“Hey, Bridgey, look who came to see us!” his mother exclaimed.
“Hullo, Dr. Kat,” he said with a little wave. She opened her arms and he climbed up into her lap.
“I brought you a present, Bridge. Would you like to see?” she asked him. His eyes went wide. He loved presents! He nodded emphatically and she pulled it out from her jacket. The box was long and thin wrapped in blue and silver paper. He tore into it with gusto. Paper flew and he lifted the lid to reveal a small pair of black leather gloves. He looked up as Dr. Kat pulled them from the box. He touched them carefully and his mother cleared her throat. She was prompting something. Oh, right!
“Thank you, Dr. Kat, for the nice gloves.” He tried to sound excited. But it wasn’t like a book or a space ship or an action figure. She chuckled at him, though it sounded more like a purr than anything else.
“They might block out the auras. Try them on,” she encouraged. That would make them an okay gift, if it blocked out all the stuff he could see and hear that he wasn’t supposed to. He was surprised at how comfortable they were as she helped him slip them on. The effect was instantaneous. It was almost like he’d put on sunglasses. The world seemed darker, more muted, and he couldn’t make out any shadow colours or people that weren’t there anymore. He could see everything, all the objects, all the corners. He couldn’t hear the voices whispering in his head any longer. It was so quiet. He looked up at Dr. Kat. She didn’t glow anymore. He could make out every little detail of her face.
“You have kitty ears,” he observed. She burst out laughing and he saw rows of sharp teeth.
“I guess it works!” she exclaimed. His mother was laughing as well and when he looked at her, he could still see her brilliant yellow glow. It didn’t cover her entirely though, and he could make out her features, soft and smooth and happy. He jumped down and walked over to her, reaching up for her face. She stilled and let him poke at her for a minute. He traced the lines in her forehead, touched her long brown hair. Tears shimmered in her eyes as he placed his two tiny hands on each side of her face, cupping her cheeks with the stiff leather on his pudgy little fingers.
“Mama, you’re so pretty!” he whispered. She laughed and hugged him close, kissing him all over his wild hair.
“Thank you, Dr. Kat. Thank you so much,” she whispered through her sniffles.
“It’s all quiet now! I’m alone in my head. It’s a Chanukah miracle,” he said, pulling back from her embrace. They laughed at that too, though he wasn’t quite sure why. He’d never been alone in his own head before. It sure felt like a miracle to him. Dr. Kat ruffled his hair.
“Happy Chanukah, Bridge.”
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Rating: K/G/general audience
Summary: In the Holiday Series. Second of eight fics for Chanukah.
Disclaimer: not mine, alas.
Sunday December 22, 2008
Four years old
It was the second night of Chanukah and Bridge was in his usual spot. He stood by the big picture window in the living room, staring. Just staring. He was a big boy now, his mother said so all the time. He was talking, learning to express himself, even figuring out how to interact with people and filter the combating signals the world around him threw at him. And he was finally level with the chanukiah on the small table. He could look straight ahead and not crane his neck up just to see. His mother had lit the candles and they were still there burning brightly. They were getting low and the flames leapt and flickered, the light they cast dancing around him.
He heard the knock at the door but didn’t turn. He already knew who was there. He hadn’t seen her face, but he’d seen the soft white glow she emanated. His mother beckoned her inside and Bridge knew he was supposed to turn and greet her, to use his words to acknowledge her presence, but the candles were so pretty and they wouldn’t last much longer. It was his favourite part of the holiday and he couldn’t bear to look away just yet. He could listen though, so he tried to focus on their conversation as well as the comforting flames.
“I’m sorry to intrude on your home, Hannah, but I just couldn’t wait until his Wednesday session,” the visitor said. His mother hugged her.
“You’re not intruding, not at all! You’re always welcome here. We were going to have some sufganiyot, it’s a type of jelly donut, once the candles burn out. He won’t leave that spot until they’re done. You should stay.” They moved to the couch and the candles flickered wildly with the movement of air when they walked past. He held his breath until they settled, hoping they wouldn’t go out. They didn’t. He let out the breath slowly so as not to disturb the flames further.
“I had an idea. He was telling me Friday what people look like now that he wears long sleeves and pants all the time. He says he can see faces. He says he didn’t understand before and now we look like angels. I think he’s still getting trace auras.” He knew they were both looking at him, but the shamash snuffed out and the others were getting close. The flames were slowly shrinking, fading into the rapidly vanishing pools of melted wax. It was almost time.
“I suspected as much. He describes people based on colour, and we’re not talking black or white. He told Mrs. Cawthorne across the street he was sorry she was so blue and grey all the time since Mr. Cawthorne had died and he hoped she could go back to being all reds and pinks again soon. Poor thing never heard him speak before. She was amazed. Didn’t understand him, but shocked he could speak at all.” The first candle sputtered and died. He held his breath as the second faded to a small blue flicker.
“I think it’s his hands. He’s getting most of his information through his hands. So I wanted to try an experiment. The sooner the better. If it works, he may not need sessions with me any longer. He could function somewhat normaly.” The last flame gave up the fight and snuffed out in a puff of smoke. He turned to the couch where his mother and the visitor were sitting. He was finally ready to acknowledge them.
“Hey, Bridgey, look who came to see us!” his mother exclaimed.
“Hullo, Dr. Kat,” he said with a little wave. She opened her arms and he climbed up into her lap.
“I brought you a present, Bridge. Would you like to see?” she asked him. His eyes went wide. He loved presents! He nodded emphatically and she pulled it out from her jacket. The box was long and thin wrapped in blue and silver paper. He tore into it with gusto. Paper flew and he lifted the lid to reveal a small pair of black leather gloves. He looked up as Dr. Kat pulled them from the box. He touched them carefully and his mother cleared her throat. She was prompting something. Oh, right!
“Thank you, Dr. Kat, for the nice gloves.” He tried to sound excited. But it wasn’t like a book or a space ship or an action figure. She chuckled at him, though it sounded more like a purr than anything else.
“They might block out the auras. Try them on,” she encouraged. That would make them an okay gift, if it blocked out all the stuff he could see and hear that he wasn’t supposed to. He was surprised at how comfortable they were as she helped him slip them on. The effect was instantaneous. It was almost like he’d put on sunglasses. The world seemed darker, more muted, and he couldn’t make out any shadow colours or people that weren’t there anymore. He could see everything, all the objects, all the corners. He couldn’t hear the voices whispering in his head any longer. It was so quiet. He looked up at Dr. Kat. She didn’t glow anymore. He could make out every little detail of her face.
“You have kitty ears,” he observed. She burst out laughing and he saw rows of sharp teeth.
“I guess it works!” she exclaimed. His mother was laughing as well and when he looked at her, he could still see her brilliant yellow glow. It didn’t cover her entirely though, and he could make out her features, soft and smooth and happy. He jumped down and walked over to her, reaching up for her face. She stilled and let him poke at her for a minute. He traced the lines in her forehead, touched her long brown hair. Tears shimmered in her eyes as he placed his two tiny hands on each side of her face, cupping her cheeks with the stiff leather on his pudgy little fingers.
“Mama, you’re so pretty!” he whispered. She laughed and hugged him close, kissing him all over his wild hair.
“Thank you, Dr. Kat. Thank you so much,” she whispered through her sniffles.
“It’s all quiet now! I’m alone in my head. It’s a Chanukah miracle,” he said, pulling back from her embrace. They laughed at that too, though he wasn’t quite sure why. He’d never been alone in his own head before. It sure felt like a miracle to him. Dr. Kat ruffled his hair.
“Happy Chanukah, Bridge.”