Chanukah night 8
Title: Chanukah, Night 8
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Rating: K/G/general audience
Summary: In the Holiday Series. Eighth and final fic for Chanukah.
Disclaimer: not mine, alas
Sunday December 21, 2025
Age twenty-one
Bridge was lonely. He knew it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it was the last night of Chanukah, the most beautiful night, and he was alone. His mother had gone to Bubbe’s for the weekend and he’d had to stay behind on alert for attacks. He didn’t want it to bother him. After all, he was an adult. He was capable of celebrating a holiday on his own. But he’d never had a last night of Chanukah without his mom. He missed her. And he hated to be alone.
He was sitting at a table in the common room, staring out the window as the stars poked through the night sky. He had the dreidel his grandfather gave him all those years ago in front of him and he was absently spinning it over and over again. To go all out and revel in the last day, he’d pulled out Zayde’s kippah, used Boom’s toaster, and was even wearing his father’s watch. But he didn’t have a menorah or candles to light. He was pretty sure Cruger wouldn’t allow an open flame in the common room anyway.
“Bridge?” a voice asked behind him. He looked up to see Z standing there. She had a familiar looking box and a book of matches in her hand. He smiled up at her and she sat down next to him, placing the box in front of him. There was Hebrew writing on it.
“Is that…?” he asked, trailing off.
“Your mother’s menorah? Yes, it is,” she replied with a devilish grin. She pulled it out of the box and set it in front of him.
“But I don’t have any candles.” He’d barely finished speaking when a box of small multi-coloured Chanukah candles landed on the table right in front of him. He looked up, startled, straight into Jack’s smiling face.
“You were saying?” he asked. Bridge laughed. Okay, so he had candles now. He was set.
“Wait wait! You can’t light them yet! I brought dinner.” Syd called from the doorway, carefully balancing a large sealed serving bowl in her hands.
“You cooked?” Sky asked, coming in behind her.
“No, of course not, silly. Mother had the chef make it,” she said, passing the bowl to Bridge. He pulled back the lid to reveal steaming matzah ball soup. It smelled delicious and there was enough there to feed everybody.
“What did you bring, Sky?” Bridge asked. Sky smirked at him.
“Myself. My presence is present enough.” Bridge laughed at him. He supposed that was true enough.
“Hey, wait for me! I want to watch too!” Boom came running into the room, tripping over his own feet. A bag slid across the floor and a whole bunch of chocolate coins rolled out and scattered.
“You brought the gelt! Thanks, Boom. We can play dreidel.” Bridge smiled as he helped his best friend up. They collected the gelt and tossed it back in the bag. There was enough chocolate to last a year.
Bridge’s friends pulled up chairs, crowding around him as he pulled out nine candles. Some of the cadets in the common room hovered on the edges of the group trying to see what was going on. He saw Sam trying to peak in amongst a group of older cadets. He was still so young, but Bridge felt a connection. He might have been younger than they were, but they all came from the same place, had the same hardships. He should be included too. Bridge motioned him over.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked hesitantly. Bridge pointed to the chair across from him and Sam went around the table to sit.
“I’m setting up my menorah so I can light the Chanukah candles. One candle a night for eight nights. It’s a holiday celebrating a victory from a war a long time ago.” Bridge said as he began to put candles in the chanukiah.
“What kind of war?” Sam asked.
“A war of oppression. We were different, and the ruler didn’t like that. So he tried to outlaw it. But we fought back and won the right to be ourselves, to be different, and to live in peace.” Sam seemed to ponder that for a moment, reaching out and feeling the wick of one of the candles.
“Kind of like us now, right?” Bridge smiled at him.
“Yeah, Sam, kind of like us right now.” Jack reached down and tousled Sam’s hair. Bridge placed the last candle in it’s spot and Sam reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Nice watch,” he said, staring. Bridge looked from Sam to his watch and back again. He took it off and handed it over.
“You can hold it for me, for awhile,” he said. Sam beamed at him and slid the watch onto his wrist. It hung very loosely, weighing down Sam’s hand, but he didn’t seem to care. His smile transported Bridge back to a time when he was a young boy, long wavy hair, and the watch became his. He cleared his throat and looked away, lest he get lost in the memories.
With a full chanukiah, he pulled out the matches and hesitated. It was against regulations to have an open flame in the building outside of the safety precautions in the kitchens. Sky wasn’t lecturing, for once, but he didn’t want any of them to get in trouble.
“What are you waiting for, Carson?” a gruff voice asked from the end of the table. He looked up to see Cruger standing there, rather stiffly, with Dr. Kat by his side.
“Well, it’s against regulations, Sir. And it feels wrong to break the rules with you standing right here? Not that I'd break them when you're not standing right here. Or at all. Or something?” Cruger actually laughed, big deep guffaws.
“You have my permission. Go ahead, son.” His voice was quiet, calming. Bridge smiled. He always got that weird fuzzy feeling inside when Cruger called him that.
Bridge struck the match and lit the candles. He said the Hebrew blessings, his solitary voice loud and clear in the quiet that fell over the common room. With all eight candles and the shamash, the chanukiah was a beacon of light in the room. He pushed it towards the window. It was only right to display it for all the world to see.
“Happy Chanukah, Bridge,” Dr. Kat said, a familiar smile on her face. Bridge had that niggling sensation that he’d known that smile before now, but he couldn’t quite place it. He tugged on his gloves and nodded his thanks.
Tears sprung to his eyes as he looked at the small group of people huddled around him. Not a single one of them celebrated his holiday, and most probably didn’t even understand it, but they were here with him anyway. They’d gone out of their way to make sure he could celebrate, that he wouldn’t be alone. They were all there, every last one of them. Z, Syd, Sky, Jack, Boom, Cruger, Kat, even Sam. They were as much his family as his own mother, and he was glad to be with them on this night, the most beautiful of nights.
Jack served up the soup, enough for everybody, and Bridge scooted his chair to bump up with Z’s while everybody else struck up their own conversations. She was so close, side to side, that he could feel her every breath. She reached up to trace the pattern on his kippah, just as she’d done every time she saw him wear it.
“How’d you get my mother’s menorah?” he asked. She hummed low in her throat.
“I made a phone call. And I borrowed your keys. Your mom told me where to find it. She was glad we planned to do this for you. She wished you could have gone with her.” He could feel Z begin to twirl his hair. He closed his eyes at the sensation and slowly, quietly, removed one of his gloves underneath the table. He let the affection from his friends seep into him. It surrounded him, enveloping him in the warmth. So much love from so many people. He really was lucky. He reached out and took her other hand in his. She gasped at the touch. Skin on skin was rare with him, but he wanted to really feel her right now.
“Thank you,” he whispered. She smiled, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. He could feel it all. It was the best Chanukah present he could have wished for.
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Rating: K/G/general audience
Summary: In the Holiday Series. Eighth and final fic for Chanukah.
Disclaimer: not mine, alas
Sunday December 21, 2025
Age twenty-one
Bridge was lonely. He knew it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it was the last night of Chanukah, the most beautiful night, and he was alone. His mother had gone to Bubbe’s for the weekend and he’d had to stay behind on alert for attacks. He didn’t want it to bother him. After all, he was an adult. He was capable of celebrating a holiday on his own. But he’d never had a last night of Chanukah without his mom. He missed her. And he hated to be alone.
He was sitting at a table in the common room, staring out the window as the stars poked through the night sky. He had the dreidel his grandfather gave him all those years ago in front of him and he was absently spinning it over and over again. To go all out and revel in the last day, he’d pulled out Zayde’s kippah, used Boom’s toaster, and was even wearing his father’s watch. But he didn’t have a menorah or candles to light. He was pretty sure Cruger wouldn’t allow an open flame in the common room anyway.
“Bridge?” a voice asked behind him. He looked up to see Z standing there. She had a familiar looking box and a book of matches in her hand. He smiled up at her and she sat down next to him, placing the box in front of him. There was Hebrew writing on it.
“Is that…?” he asked, trailing off.
“Your mother’s menorah? Yes, it is,” she replied with a devilish grin. She pulled it out of the box and set it in front of him.
“But I don’t have any candles.” He’d barely finished speaking when a box of small multi-coloured Chanukah candles landed on the table right in front of him. He looked up, startled, straight into Jack’s smiling face.
“You were saying?” he asked. Bridge laughed. Okay, so he had candles now. He was set.
“Wait wait! You can’t light them yet! I brought dinner.” Syd called from the doorway, carefully balancing a large sealed serving bowl in her hands.
“You cooked?” Sky asked, coming in behind her.
“No, of course not, silly. Mother had the chef make it,” she said, passing the bowl to Bridge. He pulled back the lid to reveal steaming matzah ball soup. It smelled delicious and there was enough there to feed everybody.
“What did you bring, Sky?” Bridge asked. Sky smirked at him.
“Myself. My presence is present enough.” Bridge laughed at him. He supposed that was true enough.
“Hey, wait for me! I want to watch too!” Boom came running into the room, tripping over his own feet. A bag slid across the floor and a whole bunch of chocolate coins rolled out and scattered.
“You brought the gelt! Thanks, Boom. We can play dreidel.” Bridge smiled as he helped his best friend up. They collected the gelt and tossed it back in the bag. There was enough chocolate to last a year.
Bridge’s friends pulled up chairs, crowding around him as he pulled out nine candles. Some of the cadets in the common room hovered on the edges of the group trying to see what was going on. He saw Sam trying to peak in amongst a group of older cadets. He was still so young, but Bridge felt a connection. He might have been younger than they were, but they all came from the same place, had the same hardships. He should be included too. Bridge motioned him over.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked hesitantly. Bridge pointed to the chair across from him and Sam went around the table to sit.
“I’m setting up my menorah so I can light the Chanukah candles. One candle a night for eight nights. It’s a holiday celebrating a victory from a war a long time ago.” Bridge said as he began to put candles in the chanukiah.
“What kind of war?” Sam asked.
“A war of oppression. We were different, and the ruler didn’t like that. So he tried to outlaw it. But we fought back and won the right to be ourselves, to be different, and to live in peace.” Sam seemed to ponder that for a moment, reaching out and feeling the wick of one of the candles.
“Kind of like us now, right?” Bridge smiled at him.
“Yeah, Sam, kind of like us right now.” Jack reached down and tousled Sam’s hair. Bridge placed the last candle in it’s spot and Sam reached out and grabbed his hand.
“Nice watch,” he said, staring. Bridge looked from Sam to his watch and back again. He took it off and handed it over.
“You can hold it for me, for awhile,” he said. Sam beamed at him and slid the watch onto his wrist. It hung very loosely, weighing down Sam’s hand, but he didn’t seem to care. His smile transported Bridge back to a time when he was a young boy, long wavy hair, and the watch became his. He cleared his throat and looked away, lest he get lost in the memories.
With a full chanukiah, he pulled out the matches and hesitated. It was against regulations to have an open flame in the building outside of the safety precautions in the kitchens. Sky wasn’t lecturing, for once, but he didn’t want any of them to get in trouble.
“What are you waiting for, Carson?” a gruff voice asked from the end of the table. He looked up to see Cruger standing there, rather stiffly, with Dr. Kat by his side.
“Well, it’s against regulations, Sir. And it feels wrong to break the rules with you standing right here? Not that I'd break them when you're not standing right here. Or at all. Or something?” Cruger actually laughed, big deep guffaws.
“You have my permission. Go ahead, son.” His voice was quiet, calming. Bridge smiled. He always got that weird fuzzy feeling inside when Cruger called him that.
Bridge struck the match and lit the candles. He said the Hebrew blessings, his solitary voice loud and clear in the quiet that fell over the common room. With all eight candles and the shamash, the chanukiah was a beacon of light in the room. He pushed it towards the window. It was only right to display it for all the world to see.
“Happy Chanukah, Bridge,” Dr. Kat said, a familiar smile on her face. Bridge had that niggling sensation that he’d known that smile before now, but he couldn’t quite place it. He tugged on his gloves and nodded his thanks.
Tears sprung to his eyes as he looked at the small group of people huddled around him. Not a single one of them celebrated his holiday, and most probably didn’t even understand it, but they were here with him anyway. They’d gone out of their way to make sure he could celebrate, that he wouldn’t be alone. They were all there, every last one of them. Z, Syd, Sky, Jack, Boom, Cruger, Kat, even Sam. They were as much his family as his own mother, and he was glad to be with them on this night, the most beautiful of nights.
Jack served up the soup, enough for everybody, and Bridge scooted his chair to bump up with Z’s while everybody else struck up their own conversations. She was so close, side to side, that he could feel her every breath. She reached up to trace the pattern on his kippah, just as she’d done every time she saw him wear it.
“How’d you get my mother’s menorah?” he asked. She hummed low in her throat.
“I made a phone call. And I borrowed your keys. Your mom told me where to find it. She was glad we planned to do this for you. She wished you could have gone with her.” He could feel Z begin to twirl his hair. He closed his eyes at the sensation and slowly, quietly, removed one of his gloves underneath the table. He let the affection from his friends seep into him. It surrounded him, enveloping him in the warmth. So much love from so many people. He really was lucky. He reached out and took her other hand in his. She gasped at the touch. Skin on skin was rare with him, but he wanted to really feel her right now.
“Thank you,” he whispered. She smiled, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. He could feel it all. It was the best Chanukah present he could have wished for.