The Car

by chipmunki

Jimmy was tired of his mother never seeing him. And even if she was off planet like Frank said she was, she would come running when she heard about what he was about to do. Maybe then she would see Jim and not George.

The Car.

By Chipmunki.

Star Trek XI FanFiction.

From what he had heard from his mother, his dad had loved this car. Loved to clean it, loved to fix it, loved to ride it. And Jim could see the attraction, the pure burst of adrenaline that came when you sped down the dirt roads wind in your golden hair, and the sweet cherry gleam of its paint, bright and fun, but when he was done with this car – nobody would be able to fix it.

This car was a cherry red, antique corvette and it was one of the few things that Jim had of his father. The other being a chess set made out of marble and onyx (apparently a gift when George made first officer on the U.S.S. Kelvin) and a pile of actual paper and ink books, that try as he might he could not resist reading. So it was the car.

That was what he took; it would be his master piece, his show, his big fat message to his mother.

And as he drove down those dusty roads with the roof blown off with the words 'tan your hide' and 'mother's off planet' along with the music he blasted from his step fathers nokia car phone but he didn't care for either of them. His mother would come home and it wasn't as if Frank hitting him was a new thing.

Him meeting his brother on the way was an added bonus, him almost driving of the cliff was a slight miscalculation and he admitted, perhaps he had not planned this as well as he had first thought. But he wasn't Vulcan or any other unemotional alien, he was human and he just wanted his mother to see him.

The question "is there a problem, Officer?" was pure Jim Kirk, as was the smirk. George had a nice honest country boy smile, for fucks sake!

Perhaps if he screamed it loud enough his mom would hear him from whatever far off planet she chose to run to to get away from him and the ghost of his dead father.

He stood in the dirt and the dust, a mere metre away from the precipice of the cliff he just drove his dead fathers prize car off of and felt no more like himself than he did before. It changed nothing but maybe once all of this crap went on his personal file and his mom got commed things would change. The fire of adrenaline charging through his veins made his a damn optimist, but the thought keep on coming, swooping and soaring through his adventure bright mind.

Maybe now he had destroyed something his father loved so much, his mother would start seeing James Tiberius Kirk when she looked at him instead of a man who had been dead for 11 years.