"So you have time to nurse some coworker back to health, share an apartment with him for two months, but you're 'too busy' for your own daughter?"
"I told you," said Bones. He stared down the woman across Pavel's chess set. "We had to stay nearby in case Starfleet gave us new orders. And Pavel was in no condition to be moved—"
"She's your flesh and blood!"
"And that boy is every bit my child."
She scoffed. "I heard about the adoption papers. Give Leonard a charity case, that whole orphan spiel, and he finally sticks around!"
Bones refused to match her raised tone. A dangerous, hard glint entered his eye, however. "I've made mistakes, I know, but I intend to be there for both Jo and Pavel. He has twice the heart you ever showed and he's never even been cared for properly."
She opened her mouth to argue, but Joanna burst into the room, several youngsters in tow. All spoke over each other and some wailed. Tears stained his daughter's face.
"We were just playing and the lasers hit and his knees went all wobbly he looked dead and I know you told us not to shout around him but we were only pretending, I didn't forget—honest. Then he didn't breathe right and we tried waving a hand in front of his face but…"
When Bones' brain teased through this, his throat dropped to his shoes. He leapt into action.
"Where?" he barked. "Show me."
Bones removed his coat from behind the door while jogging outside. A hand clamped around his chest at the sight of a hunched figure amidst the dead grass. Shell shocked. Eyes vacant.
No, Bones realized. Not vacant.
The teen's pupils, having swallowed his irises, darted, seeing something miles away.
Light years away.
"Pavel?"
Bones fell to his knees. A tap to the cheek elicited no response. Bones checked bpm under the jaw. Too slow.
Catatonic. Trauma—hypo arousal.
The doctor's mind cataloged this before he'd even taken the next breath.
"Daddy?"
"It's not your fault, Jo." Bones never took his eyes off Pavel's face. "Everyone inside."
Silence.
"Now, please!"
They filtered away, leaving Bones and Pavel alone. Dusk was falling. Bones quickly wrapped the coat around Pavel. It swamped his frame.
Bones caressed the icy cheek. "You're not on the ship. You're safe on Earth—no more blood. No explosions. We made it home."
Pavel may as well have been a corpse aside from the upright set of his back.
With a broken sigh, Bones scooped the boy into his arms. He lowered himself into a nearby lawn chair, Pavel cradled against his chest. Ear to Bones' shoulder, legs swung to the side. Bones tilted back to see the stars. They unfurled one by one for the night watch.
"What's a Christmas without stars?" His chin propped on the boy's head.
"Just like old times," he continued. "Look, Pavel. I see your favorite. Orion. He's got a bow like Joanna. You weigh far too little for a sixteen year old, know that? If we stay here for a while, like I'd hoped, that won't be a problem. Ma will get you weighing more than my suitcase."
Pavel's fingers jerked.
Bones kissed the hair.
He rocked them. Whispered soothing nonsense in the boy's ear. Night fell yet still Pavel's eyes shone, by what light Bones had no idea. A tear trailed down his cheek.
Bones saw it and sat up. "Pavel?"
The youth began to quake in his arms. Great, shuddering heaves. They rattled Bones' teeth.
"Pavel? You with me?"
The voice came out as a flute of wind between trees. Wispy, insubstantial.
"I didn't catch that, Pavel."
"Ya dumal, chto umru…"
Bones leaned forward. His eyes widened.
"YA privetstvoval yego," Chekov murmured. "Chtoby vmeste s moim…mat' i otets…"
"Russian," said Bones. "Try again, bud."
"But then vy prishli vmeste i ... i smert' ne domoy anymore."
"Almost there. We're going for English."
Stunned quiet. Then—
"B…Bones?"
The doctor, too overcome to speak, gathered him in a desperate, firm hold. Pavel's shaking worsened. He whimpered.
"Bones?"
"I'm here. You're safe, son. I've got you."
"Bones?"
The doctor worriedly felt Pavel for injury at the fearful tone, charged with emotion.
"Can't feel my legs," said Pavel. "Cold."
"Let's get you inside."
Bones carried the boy over the kitchen threshold and into the living room. Gingerly, he set Pavel down on the carpet. He retrieved several blankets off the couch. After draping them over his son, Bones pressed a button and electric flames—along with a precious burst of heat—crackled at Pavel's back. He blinked, cringing at what Bones imagined was a wicked case of pins and needles. He rubbed sensation back into Pavel's legs.
People trickled into the room. Excited prattle flurried over their heads.
Still glazed but more alert, Pavel eyed the nativity being carried in.
Bones crouched at Pavel's side. "Watch. Here come your animals."
Children bounded through the door, now in homemade costumes. One shed woolly fur. Another "mooed." Red tail feathers hung from a boy's rooster getup. Lastly came a mother and father—Bones' cousins—in Middle Eastern robes. Another trio carried shepherd staffs. Joanna tripped behind the parade in a halo and angel's wings. The sound of their caroling swelled.
"Away in a manger no crib for a bed—"
"Neigh!" trilled a little girl in her horse costume.
"The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head—"
"Ba-gock!"
"The stars in the bright sky look down where He lay…"
"Moo!"
"—Asleep on the hay!"
By the time the crowd gathered around their wooden nativity set, the adults were doubled over with laughter. The children tried to finish the song, hollering over each other, but soon dissolved into giggles.
"Silent night really is a lie," said Bones with a grin.
A weight settled on Bones' chest. He looked down to see Pavel's bushy head and rumbled, carding through the tangled curls.
"Why?" asked Pavel's hoarse voice. He pointed.
Bones followed his hand to the empty manger. "Well, it would be a pretty depressing ending if Jesus was still there. Never grew up, just stayed a baby. It's a sign that He's not there but, err, everywhere. I suck at this stuff, sorry."
"Why?" Pavel said again, and this time pain dripped from the word. "Why do you want me…I can't even get Christmas right. I am not what anyone vould care to be strapped with. Why d-do you want me?"
Bones bowed his head. His mouth twisted. Then he released Pavel, prying the star off the mini stable. It fit perfectly in Pavel's palm. He closed the youth's fingers over it.
"For the same reason we celebrate Christmas and the greatest gift: grace. Grace means getting what we didn't work for. Something unearned but given freely. I don't want you because of what you do for me, Pavel." His face softened. "I want you because you're mine. Because a life with you is infinitely better than without."
Pavel stared at the pentacle star. He tucked it to his chest. Tears slipped down fresh spots of color in his cheeks.
He smiled. "Merry Christmas."
Bones curled forward to press his lips in the cold curls. "Merry Christmas, Pavel."
Written in 2015.