Courage comes in many forms...

It was an unusually quiet Saturday afternoon at the Hodgins household. Seeley had left for his part time job at the ice rink, and Christine had taken Joy to get a haircut before they did the normal weekend errands.

Relishing the quiet, Michael-Vincent sat at his desk with his coffee, editing his latest article for the Journal of Industrial Design. Over the years, it had become easier for people with mobility issues to navigate through a variety of workplaces, but he knew there was still a lot to be accomplished, and he wanted to be on the forefront of those efforts. Things most people took for granted at work could be barriers for those with some sort of physical impairment. Anything that could make lives more convenient for those who found it difficult to move around easily in a work setting would be a step in the right direction for industry, allowing everyone who wanted to work a chance to be successful at a well paying career.

He smiled to himself as he looked out the window of his study, thinking once again about what an inspiration his father had been to him in choosing his profession. His parents had struggled to come to terms with his father's paralysis after the extent of his bomb related injuries had become known, but in the end, they'd become closer as a couple. They're amazing people...brilliant...loving...caring…

...and extremely adaptable. It had taken time, but their house and his father's lab at the Jeffersonian had been modified to make them accessible for a person in a wheelchair. Because he had a combination of his mother's creative urge and his father's imagination, along with a healthy dose of logic and intelligence from both of them, making sure accessibility was integrated into industrial design had been an easy fit for Michael-Vincent. He wanted to make sure anyone who found themselves in a position such as his father's would have the means to contribute to society, just as his father had done over his many years during his tenure as 'king of the lab'.

Tapping at his keyboard, he grimaced slightly as he edited his article. His parents had enjoyed a wonderful income from his father's inventions, and they were able to afford the expense of remodeling their house to fit his father's needs. What about those with more modest incomes? What could be done to make their lives easier?

Turning the problem over in his mind, Michael-Vincent studied his article. "We need to make that sort of thing more affordable…", he mumbled to himself. "Maybe I can propose a study…"

"Daddy?" Max had entered the study quietly, startling his father by pulling on his shirt sleeve. "I'm hungry."

"What? You just ate lunch an hour ago!" Pretending to glare at his son, Michael-Vincent groaned in mock horror. "How am I ever going to afford to feed both you and your brother? Thank goodness your sister doesn't eat very much…"

"I don't eat as much as Seeley, Daddy. He can eat four hamburgers at a time…", Max laughed as he followed his father into the kitchen. "I can only eat one…"

"I know! I don't know how he does that!" Pulling out a knife from a drawer, Michael-Vincent grabbed an apple from a basket on the counter. "Let's have some fruit and cheese, okay? Maybe that'll take the edge off your tummy rumblings. I don't want to spoil your dinner. Mommy said something about getting some pizza tonight."

"Yum! I hope it's from Andolini's. That's the best kind." The little boy grinned as he popped a slice of apple in his mouth. "Thanks, Daddy." Glancing toward the end of the kitchen counter, he pointed to the picture album. "Can I look at that book while we have our snack?"

"Wipe your hands first. Mommy won't be happy if we get stuff all over the pictures." After handing the child a paper towel, Michael-Vincent placed the album where they could both see it. "There's lots of cool stuff in here, isn't there?"

"Uh huh." Max pointed to a picture of a man with a long gray beard who was holding an electric guitar. "Who's that?"

"That's your great grandpa...that's Billy, who was Grandma A's daddy. He was a professional musician many years ago...he played with a band, and they made lots of albums. That's why my brother is called J-Dub...his name is Jeffrey William after PaJack's brother Jeffrey and after Billy, whose grown up name was William." Michael-Vincent laughed to himself. As if Billy had actually ever grown up, right? He was always a big kid...

Smiling wistfully, Michael-Vincent ran his finger around the edge of the portrait, which had been used as a publicity still for one of the band's tours. "He was a great guy...we had a lot of fun together. I remember him coming to visit us when I was a little boy. He'd plug in his amplifiers and hit the strings on that guitar, and it seemed like the whole house would shake and rattle because the music was so loud. Your grandpa wasn't always happy about that, but your grandma would just laugh and call her daddy a Texas twister." Sighing softly, he looked at his son. "He passed away about 30 years ago, but I still miss him a lot…"

Uncomfortable with his father's sadness, Max decided to change the subject. "Daddy...look at this picture. It looks funny…", he said, obviously confused as he looked up at his father. "Is this really PaJack?"

"What?" Unsure of what Max meant, Michael-Vincent shook off his reverie and glanced at the album. His son was looking at a photo of his grandfather and his friend Zack as they stood together in the Ookie Room at the old Jeffersonian. "Well, of course that's PaJack. Who else would it be?"

Rolling his eyes at his father's apparent ignorance, the boy sighed in exasperation. "But he's not in his wheelchair, Daddy! He can't walk…how did they get him to stand up for the picture?"

"Oh…" MIchael-Vincent gasped softly as he remembered once again that his children had never seen their Grandfather Hodgins without his wheelchair. "Well, this picture was taken before he was injured...it was a really long time ago, even before Grandma A and PaJack were married." Groaning softly, he closed his eyes, wishing his wife would show up so he didn't have to explain what had happened, but…

There's no time like the present, I suppose. Clearing his throat, he shrugged a shoulder at Max. "So here's what happened, okay? PaJack wasn't always in a wheelchair like he is now. He used to walk around and do stuff just like you and me." He grew pensive as he continued. "I can still remember when we would go out and look for cool bugs and interesting rocks at the park close to our house. PaJack always carried a bag with him on those trips so we could bring our treasures home…it was full of little jars for any bugs he'd collect, and there were a bunch of little bags for rocks and minerals..."

"He gave me a bag like that, too!" Max grinned up at his father. "He said I should bring him whatever I find, 'cause he said he may not be able to go with me on my adventures, but if I show him my stuff, it's like he got to be there anyway, and then he can look at them and tell me what I've found..." Max's voice trailed off as he looked at the picture again. "Did he get hurt somehow?"

"Yeah...he did. He went out to a crime scene one night with Uncle Aubrey, and there was a terrible explosion, and his back got hurt. At first it didn't seem so bad, but…" Michael-Vincent tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "...a few days later, he collapsed at work. As it turned out, he had a really, really bad bruise in his back, and it put a lot of pressure on his spinal cord and damaged some nerves, so he became paralyzed...meaning his legs couldn't move. I was still a little boy...I wasn't even as old as you are now...and it was so hard for me to understand why my daddy couldn't walk around the park with me anymore…" He brushed away a tear. "...but at least he was still alive…" Seeing that Max was upset, Michael-Vincent reached over to rub his shoulder. "It was a difficult time for all of us, and PaJack had to adapt to being in his wheelchair full time. As you can imagine, he was very unhappy, and it took him several months before he was happy again."

"Yeah…" Max studied the picture carefully before asking his father another question. "Why couldn't the doctors fix him and make his back better if it was just a big bruise?"

"Well, sometimes, when a person has some sort of really bad injury, the doctors can't do anything to make it better. PaJack considered having surgery on his back several years ago, but it was risky, and the surgeon wasn't sure it would fully restore his ability to walk." Seeing the unspoken question on Max's face, Michael-Vincent explained as best he could. "When a person doesn't use their muscles for a long time, they quit working right...they sort of waste away. PaJack had been doing some physical therapy to keep the muscles in his legs strong, but the doctor wasn't sure it was enough. There were other things to consider as well, and in the end, he decided not to go through with the operation."

"Did that make you sad?" Max sniffled a bit, knowing how he'd feel if his daddy couldn't walk any more. "I'd be sad if something like that happened to you…"

"To be honest, it did make me sad at first...my daddy was in a wheelchair, and he seemed angry at everyone all the time. I didn't know what I could do to make things better, so I spent a lot of time hanging out in my room, wishing the problem would go away."

"But PaJack seems happy now…"

Michael-Vincent ran his fingers through Max's curls. "He is happy. He finally realized that what makes him a great guy isn't whether or not he can walk. Once he figured out that we all loved him, no matter what, he began to feel better about things. His mind still worked, even if his legs didn't, so he could still do his job. It was a big adjustment, but he made it, finally, and then things began to get a lot better."

Picking up the apple scraps, he put them in the composter. "I'll tell you something else, Max...because PaJack was able to adapt so well after a very bad injury, he taught me that I can adapt to anything, too. I wasn't allowed to make excuses when I was a boy...I couldn't tell him that my homework was too hard, or that I was too tired to do some chore I was supposed to do. And, because PaJack is so smart, he figured out how to do everything he needed to for his job, even though that was very difficult at first. The point is that a person can do a lot of things if they're willing to work hard and never give up."

"Well...except that he still can't walk…"

Michael-Vincent glanced at his son, wondering if the boy meant to be snarky. Satisfied that it was just a child's bluntness, he nodded in agreement. "No, he can't, but he can do almost everything else. You've seen his arm muscles, right? His upper body is really strong." Seeing Max nod, he continued. "Did you know that many years ago he used his arms to climb down a rope into an elevator shaft at a crime scene?"

"Wow…" Max was impressed. "He's told me some stories about his job, but I didn't know about that one."

"I'm sure he'll tell you all about it if you want him to."

"I hope so. I like the stories he tells me, like the one about when he was looking for pirate treasure in a real deep well filled with water." Max chuckled a bit as he closed the album. "He didn't really find pirate treasure, did he, Daddy?"

"Yes, actually, he did...it was a very long time ago, though. You see, before he got hurt, he used to go underwater diving in caves, so he had experience being in cramped places like that…"

"No way…" Max grinned as he put his paper towel in the trash.

"Way! Call him up! We'll ask him…"

Oooooooooo

Later that evening, Christine handed her husband a beer and settled next to him on the sofa. "It sounds like you and Max had an interesting conversation this afternoon." Seeing his hesitation, she laughed softly. "He told me all about it...about how you called your dad and then Hodgins explained about the pirate coins he'd found…"

"Oh...yeah." Michael-Vincent took a sip of his beer and shook his head. "You know, I guess I haven't thought about it for awhile, but when I was explaining to Max about how my dad adapted to being paralyzed, it reminded me of how much he went through...I know he grieved for the loss of his way of life before the injury. He's told me about how upset he was with himself that he'd taken everything for granted...and yet, he didn't let it keep him down for long. He worked hard, and he never gave up..."

"Hodgins is an amazing man." Christine snuggled close to her husband and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Just like his son."

"Well, thanks...I just hope we're never put to the test. I'm not sure I'd do as well as he did…"

"I don't know...I bet you'd be just fine.." She smiled as she put her arm around him. "And it's not like I want to find out, either, but I have confidence in you. We can handle anything, as long as we're together."

I know you may be wondering why there aren't any Christmas chapters, since this is a Christmas challenge. I'm reserving them for the end of the story.

Thanks for reading. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it.