A/N: Kidfic (i.e. baby Bellamy - well twelve year old at least...) Also features my take on Ark cultural history...

Day 2 – Christmas on The Ark

Any religious overtones to the holiday (that had been kept in some of the space stations for a while at least) had completely died out with the last astronaut who had been on the ground. The Old Religions had seemed to fade after the people of the Ark had witnessed the rest of the human race destroy each other, and after the war which had destroyed 13.

They had films and stories to tell them how Christmas used to be on Earth of course, but there were no festive feasts or present giving on The Ark – no Santa Claus, Hoteiosho or Snegurochka in space – not when everything was rationed by necessity. The American/Australian tradition of Holiday Pageants was not continued either. When the stations had joined, as Christmas had not been universally celebrated by all 12 nations, this kind of activity had instead been reserved for Unity Day.

Some of the songs had survived though, in the way that music often seems to transcend time and place, and find new meaning. They even had carol singers and concerts to mark the time of year – singing lots of the Earth classics (albeit with the lyrics amended in many of them), as well as some newer, Ark compositions.

Music from the archives got played too. "Baby, it's cold outside" had retained a certain resonance with the spacewalkers for instance. And the strains of 'Feliz Navidad' could always be heard on a loop towards the end of an evening's merriment – seeming to boom particularly loudly from Mecha station every year. For most on Mecha, it wasn't truly Christmas until Finn or Raven had bumped into them on the dance floor, as they played kiss-chase or twirled exuberantly, singing along loudly enough that people joked they would wake-up the Chancellor.

It was the time of year when Agro's production of moonshine was overlooked by the Guard. Christmas was a holiday, and they wanted to share in the fun and relaxation along with everyone else.

For Bellamy though, Christmas was very different. As a young boy he'd recognised the opportunity to bring a little magic into Octavia's life. For example, she was the only child on the Ark to receive a gift from Father Christmas – after all she was the best behaved, nicest little girl in all of space. Every year she would write him a letter and fall asleep with it under her pillow, and every year a reply would be waiting for her in the morning. She didn't know she was the only one, and that's why it was so special – for once she didn't feel any different from the other children on The Ark who she'd only ever been able to imagine.

While the rest of the Ark had adopted the Venezuelan tradition of sprucing up their homes for the season, the Blake household actually decorated. Not that you would notice when you first walked in – they had to keep it discreet for the inspections after all – but there were Christmas stars hidden throughout their quarters, and if you opened certain doors then there was no way you could forget it was Christmas!

Their favourite tradition though, was to work on the quilt. An ordinary blanket on one side, but when you turned it over… it was beautiful. They all worked on it together, every year, using what scraps Aurora could find no way to repurpose, to build up a visual delight that transformed their small rooms in B-17. While they were sewing, he would tell her stories of elves and Christmas fairies and Rudolph with his nose so bright. He lived to see her eyes light up with pure delight at the magic of it all.

It wasn't quite true to say there was no exchange of Christmas gifts on the Ark. A couple of Earth traditions had survived. The Japanese astronauts had shared their approach to Christmas Eve with the other stations. In Japan it had been a romantic day – not unlike Valentine's Day – and so it was a day often shared by couples on The Ark, who would occasionally give a romantic token to mark the day. The Chinese custom of giving apples as gifts on Christmas Eve had also been continued. Which was why Bellamy was trying to track down some apples for his Mom and O when he came across the blonde girl in the corridor. She couldn't be much older than his sister.

He hadn't expected to run into anyone. In fact he had come this way to specifically avoid unwelcome questions as people wondered why a twelve year old was wondering around on his own. Everyone should have been at home with their families or have just begun réveillons in one of the mess halls. The viewing deck should have been deserted. Now he hesitated, this girl was in the way. Would she just let him pass?

She hadn't noticed him yet. She was too busy staring at Earth… and humming?

He'd taken a step forward, without realising, in attempt to hear her… It was Silent Night (a largely forgotten carol that he knew from his research for O) – sung so softly, he could only just make out the words she sang.

Silent night, Holy night,
All is calm, all is bright,
Round and purging, Mother for child,
Wholly distant, so empty and wild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Heal in heavenly peace.

She cut such a melancholy figure. No more than seven or eight years old, alone, in a dark corridor, singing to a toxic planet – almost like a lullaby. She looked as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. He took another step forward.

Then he remembered O. She was his sister and he was her world. He couldn't waste time tonight of all nights. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't risk talking to the girl in front of him. He was already finding it too difficult to tear himself away, but he needed to find some apples and get back home before he was missed.

As he lay in his bunk that night, he was dogged with thoughts of her. Who was she? Could she have become his friend? Had someone taught her the carol, or had she re-worded it herself? Did she dream about escaping to Earth as much as he did? What made her wish she could go? Not that it could ever happen of course – everyone knew it'd be four more generations before the earth was safe. It would be their great-great grandchildren who would be the first to set foot on the ground.

Bellamy didn't often indulge in things like making wishes. Life had taught him the hard way that they never came true. He actively discouraged O from making them, as he felt like such a failure when he couldn't make them come true for her. But maybe tonight he could make just one? … One little Christmas wish couldn't hurt? He thought of the girl. After she'd made her little pilgrimage to greet their lost planet, he hoped she'd gone back to her family and friends, and had had as merry a Christmas as he'd given O. That wasn't too much to ask was it?