2263

The sounds of children making various types of noises caused Leonard to cringe as he entered the school building. He gazed around at the colorful, home-made decor littering the walls.

He could see that the halls were deserted and even the office looked empty.

It was an eerie feeling for Leonard to walk down the long hallway to try and figure out which classroom belonged to the kindergarten group. For that was why he was even here.

Normally, Arianne would handle visits to the school, as she was more comfortable handing things concerning the children. However, she was teaching Psychology classes all day at the Academy that day and, not only would her phone be off, she wouldn't be done teaching until after dark.

Since Arianne could not be reached, the school had phoned him while he was in the middle of a medical simulation with a pack of medical cadets at Starfleet Medical. After mentally kicking himself for forgetting to shut his phone off, Leonard had turned the rest of the simulation over to Phlox and the CMO of Starfleet Medical, Dr. Mark Piper, so he could address the situation.

A door suddenly opened, causing Leonard to flinch. He turned towards the source of the noise and saw that a middle-aged female was standing outside of a classroom that had a bright red door.

"Doctor McCoy, it's good that you could come so quickly," the teacher stated, closing the door behind her. "If you'll follow me, Charles is being talked to by the principal in his office...My assistant is looking after the rest of the kids and making sure that the rest of activity time goes well."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Leonard nodded and followed the teacher back down the hallway to a brown oak door that had a "Principal" sign just below the tinted window. He could hear a deep voice talking in a stern tone, yet he couldn't make out what was being said to his step-son.

The teacher knocked on the door, "Principal Watson, Doctor McCoy is here," she said.

There was some quiet talking and the door suddenly opened, revealing a slightly overweight, balding man in a gray suit, "We just finished our conversation," Principal Watson stated. "As both you and your wife know of the three-strike rule, Doctor McCoy, I must now ask you to take Charles home."

"Are you going to at least tell me what happened before you finalize his expulsion?" Leonard asked, trying to hide the irritation in his voice. "He's been suspended twice for fighting in class, right?"

Principal Watson nodded and stepped out into the hallway, revealing a small, brown-haired boy, who was wearing sneakers, socks, jeans, and a t-shirt that was ripped, sitting in a large chair.

There was an overstuffed backpack at his feet and Leonard immediately noticed that Charles had a black eye and bruises on his little face, along with an angry scowl that illuminated his blue eyes.

"Charles, can you tell your stepdad what happened?" Principal Watson asked, giving the boy a sharp look, which was his way of warning the boy to behave or face further trouble.

Charles scowled, "Michael and Zach called me stupid because I didn't finish my work fast," he replied in an upset voice. "They got in my face and I pushed them away and-"

"A fistfight started," Leonard finished with a sigh. "Now you're expelled from kindergarten."

Principal Watson sighed, "Perhaps Charles-"

"My name is CHARLIE," Charles hissed as he hopped out of the chair, grabbed his backpack, and ran over to where Leonard was standing. "I hate being called Charles."

Biting his lip, Principal Watson harrumphed and closed the door to his office. The teacher gave the boy a stern look and moved back down the hallway to attend to the rest of her class. Shocked at how rude his step-son was, Leonard sighed and placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Well, I guess you'll be spending the rest of the day at Starfleet Medical with me, kid," Leonard stated in a frustrated tone. "Where's your jacket?"

Scowling, Charlie opened his backpack and pulled out a small blue windbreaker, "It's not even cold outside," he argued. "I don't wanna wear it."

Without saying a word, Leonard grabbed the jacket and put it on the boy, "Let's go," he replied in a tone that he had used to get the boy to behave after he was suspended the second time.

Tears suddenly pooled in Charlie's eyes and he looked at the floor, "I didn'a mean to be a bad kid," he said, his small voice breaking. "I try really, really hard to be good all the time."

Feeling pangs of guilt in his heart for his sternness, Leonard sighed, "Just because you do bad things, Charlie, does NOT mean you are a bad kid," he stated. "Do you understand me?"

Charlie remained silent and continued looking at the floor. Taking the little boy's hand in his own, Leonard grabbed the backpack in his other hand and led the boy towards the exit doors.

As they emerged into the sunlight and headed for the beat-up station wagon that had been bought the year before, Leonard suddenly found his mind wandering to Jim. It had been two years.

Even though Jim often annoyed him, he couldn't help but worry about his long lost friend.

2380

Far into the future, Tom Paris entered his family's shoebox-like apartment and, as the door slid shut and auto-locked, he leaned against the wall with a sigh. He had been laid off from yet another job because of his torrential past.

It simply wasn't fair, Tom thought, as he moved over to the couch and sat down. They had been back in their own time for two years now and Voyager had since gotten home and shortly thereafter, Miral had been delivered into the world by The Doctor.

However, despite the former Maquis receiving full pardons, Voyager had been stowed in mothballs and her crew assigned to various land-based assignments, without any plans for future launches of the ship, neither were any of the crew being sent into space.

Instead of being treated as heroic explorers, the entire crew was being treated as annoying, bacteria-ridden aliens who weren't qualified for much more than simple civilian living.

To prove that point, Starfleet had jammed every last Voyager crew member into several apartment complexes within a district called Poverty Row, which was a dangerous area.

"Tom?"

Realizing that B'Elanna had heard him come in and had gotten up from her deep sleep, Tom turned just in time to see his lovely wife, who was dressed in a pink nightgown, come to him.

"I was let go from the shuttle maintenance job this morning," Tom admitted as B'Elanna caressed his cheek affectionately, "I've been walking around Golden Gate Memorial Park all day."

Not surprised to hear that Starfleet had found yet another way to screw Tom out of meaningful opportunities now that they were home, B'Elanna sighed and wrapped her arms around him.

"We'll find a way to survive, Tom," B'Elanna stated, resting her head on his chest. "We've got money saved up and it doesn't cost much to take care of Miral...We should just go to bed and we can deal with this in the morning. Miral's sleeping in the end crib...Come on, Tom."

Knowing that it was better not to solve this issue until he had some sleep, Tom nodded and put an arm around B'Elanna, "Could you maybe help me forget today?" he asked, grinning at his wife.

"I think I can do that as long as we're quiet," B'Elanna whispered coyly, as she guided Tom towards their bedroom. "We wouldn't want to wake Miral up."

Before they could disappear into their bedroom, there was a mechanical chime, indicating that someone was at the door. Exchanging a look of surprise, the two moved over to the locked door.

However, before they could open it, there was a clicking sound and the door automatically opened, revealing three Romulan soldiers who were armed with large phaser rifles.

"We seek B'Elanna Torres, Chief Engineer of Voyager," a Romulan, who had a bald head that was decorated with elaborate markings which brought out the evil in his gray eyes, stated sternly as he and his cohorts entered the apartment. "Jeris requests her skills for a mission of great time."

Tom immediately pulled B'Elanna behind him, "Get out of our apartment," he hissed angrily.

Almost immediately, one of the Romulan guards whacked Tom across the head with his phaser rifle, sending him to the floor in an unconscious heap. While the one guard placed a boot on Tom's chest so he couldn't move, the other two guards shot B'Elanna, stunning her.

As B'Elanna was dragged from the apartment, Tom briefly gained consciousness and was beaten for several minutes with the phaser rifle. Letting out a final groan, he fell into a deep blackness.

2262

In the skid row of San Francisco, two figures moved along the street in silence.

A baby's cry shattered the still day just as the two figures moved into a small dwelling that was on an isolated corner. The door was quickly sealed and automatic locks secured the door.

The visiting room was small and had a small amount of furniture. Books and papers littered a desk in the corner, as well as the accompanying chair. Blankets were on the couch and chair. A swing seat and playpen were in another corner, next to a door that led to a hallway. The hallway was small and led to a tiny fresher, bedroom, and a poorly-stocked kitchen without a replicator.

Fighting the urge to vomit, as he didn't feel good, Jim, who was dressed in oil-stained jeans, boots, and a ragged shirt, removed his hooded coat and scooped his crying son, George, out of the Snugli that had been around his neck when he wasn't working on repairing broken vehicles.

The flight school gig in Montana had lasted about a year before Jim began to ache for the familiarity of San Francisco. He hadn't wanted to come back to Starfleet, however, so he just moved his children into a poor civilian area and ended up with a low-paying job at a service garage.

Jim's shifts lasted from sun up to sun down, but today, he had barely enough strength to even get a foot in the door before puking his breakfast up. He had declared himself sick and left again.

The smaller figure removed his coat with a quiet sigh, revealing Lorian, who had sand-colored hair and was dressed in a pant-suit. He placed his backpack on the floor.

While Jim worked at fixing damaged automobiles for a low salary, Lorian would normally isolate himself and George in the staff area and study whatever he was interested in that day.

The price of formal education was too high for Jim to afford, so Lorian took matters into his own hands and studied independently while watching his brother. When Jim was on a break or they were at home, he would use what little energy he had left to spend time with both of them.

"Father, if I may state an observation," Lorian stated, watching as his fatigued father paced the room, trying to find something to calm his crying brother. "You require rest from your daily endeavours...Allow me to attend to George's physiological needs while you take to your bed."

On the verge of shaking, Jim nodded and passed George to Lorian, as he didn't want his tired body to give out and end up dropping his infant on the hard floor. Automatically, he swallowed vomit.

Within seconds, Lorian had found George a small toy to play with and had settled the infant in his swing seat, "Father, you require sleep," he observed, gently taking Jim's arm.

"I need to get out of these clothes," Jim gasped, feeling stabbing pains in his gut.

Lorian nodded and helped his father to quickly undress. He was equally as quick to provide his father with a pair of loose pants and a over-sized shirt so that his rest would be comfortable.

"You take my bed tonight, son," Jim rasped weakly, sinking on to the couch. "I don't feel well."

Raising an eyebrow, Lorian quickly covered him with two blankets, "Indeed," he commented, moving away from the couch. "I will attend to my and George's needs today, simply rest."

"...I could really use Bones right about now," Jim mumbled groggily as he fell into a deep sleep.

Taking note that his father had mentioned a friend whom he hadn't made contact with in two years, Lorian retrieved George from the swing and carried him into the kitchen for a meal.

It only took a few moments to settle George in his highchair with appropriate babyfood.

While George ate, Lorian moved over to the computer that was on the kitchen table. Even though his father didn't use much technology, a computer was essential in times of great need.

"Computer, identify the personage known as "Bones," Lorian stated in a high, but very quiet voice.

There was some beeping and then a file with a picture of Dr. McCoy appeared on the screen.

"Subject 'Bones' is legally known as Leonard Horatio McCoy, Chief Medical Officer on the USS Enterprise NCC-1701..." the computer replied.

Lorian sighed, "Identify Doctor McCoy's current location," he requested, wanting to help his father.

"Current location is Starfleet Medical on the grounds of Starfleet Headquarters, which is adjacent to Starfleet Academy.."

Before Lorian could ask another question of the computer, he heard a retching sound coming from the living room, followed by some weak groaning. Lorian sighed, he knew what he had to do.

"Computer, transmit an emergency message to Doctor McCoy from these co-ordinates indicating that my father, James Tiberius Kirk, is in need of immediate medical assistance," Lorian ordered.

The computer gave a few short beeps as Lorian's message was transcribed and transmitted, "Message sent," the electronic voice stated. "Would you like to video-call Doctor McCoy?"

Suddenly, Lorian heard more retching sounds from the living room.

As George was otherwise occupied with his food, Lorian moved into the living room and saw that Jim was trying to stand, "Father, what are you doing?" he asked in a curious tone.

"I need Bones," Jim stated in a weak voice as sweat glistened on his forehead. "I'm sick."

Lorian nodded and gently forced his father to sit back down on the couch, "I perceived as much and have already sent Doctor McCoy a message on the computer," he replied, gently touching his father's sweaty forehead. "Lie back down and I will retrieve something cold from the freezer."

Blinking tiredly, Jim sighed, "I can't move," he whispered, fighting to stay awake. "So weak."

Knowing that his father's life was at stake because of this mysterious illness, Lorian quickly moved back into the kitchen. Hopefully, Doctor McCoy would recieve and respond to the message.

From the safety of his office chair, Leonard sighed as he watched an orderly wheel Admiral Pike into the patient bay and immediately be greeted by Dr. Piper. As the CMO of Starfleet Medical, Dr. Piper had a grandoise office on a separate floor while McCoy had a tiny one in the foyer.

Even though both he and Dr. Piper were supposed to be on duty, Leonard was currently occupied with watching Charlie, who sat on his lap reading an age-appropriate PADD. He had gotten the boy a nutritious lunch of chicken salad and milk from the replicator and now was quiet time.

While Charlie ate, he had been treated to a strict lecture about proper behaviors in public and that reckless fistfighting was not an appropriate way to solve problems with others. Some parents spanked their children, but neither Leonard nor Arianne believed in corporeal punishment.

For the most part, however, Leonard was relieved that Charlie didn't come out of the fight with anything worse than a few harmless bruises and a black eye. Despite their young ages, both Zachary and Michael Pike were in advanced taekwondo classes and knew how to fight well.

The only child Charlie seemed to get along with currently was his sister, Kathryn, yet she preferred to stay out of fights and instead focused on her schoolwork. Although Charlie, Kathryn, and Zachary were born within minutes of each other, all three seemed to have very distinct personalities.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the window. Leonard scowled and looked up from his stepson only to find that Dr. Piper was motioning for him to come out of his shoebox of an office.

"Stay here, Charlie, I have to see what Doctor Piper wants," Leonard ordered, gently lifting Charlie off his lap, standing, and placing the boy back in the chair. "Don't touch the computer."

Charlie nodded absentmindedly and continued reading with every intent of being good.

Leonard sighed and stepped out of the office, "Admiral Pike wants you to do the Physio routine today, Doctor McCoy," Dr. Piper stated, forcing a PADD into his hands. "He saw your kid when he came in and I'm pretty sure he wants to talk to you about having a kid at work."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Leonard walked past him and over into the large lab that was used for physiotherapy patients, Dr. Piper's amused chuckle ringing in his ears. Admiral Pike was seated in his wheelchair, which was parked next to a chair that was used for ambulatory patients.

"I didn't think you were scheduled for any physio until next week, Admiral," Leonard commented.

Admiral Pike raised an eyebrow, "I'm not, actually," he replied. "I came in for a chat with Doctor Piper and I happened to see you sitting in your office with Charles...I thought he was in school."

Leonard swallowed nervously, "Admiral, I-" he began.

"Save it, I already know what happened because I got a call from the school and was informed about Michael's part in the fight," Admiral Pike stated in a concerned tone. "Anyway, Doctor McCoy, I can't help but be concerned, as children don't normally get expelled from kindergarten."

Leonard sighed, "I honestly don't know what to do with Charles," he replied. "He may be Jonathan Archer's biological kid, but I'll tell you right now, he acts nothing like it...maybe he can't."

Admiral Pike gave Leonard a look, "Have you ever had Charles assessed for any type of disability of sorts, Doctor McCoy?" he asked. "As you know, his mother has a couple of those that she was diagnosed with when she was about the age Charles is now."

"If Charles were to have any sort of learning or developmental disability, his chances of being accepted into any other civilian school would be shot," Leonard stated, frustration in his voice.

There was silence for a moment, "You know Kathryn runs an educational centre for kids of Starfleet personnel," Admiral Pike stated. "I could arrange for you, Arianne, and Charles to take a tour and learn a little more about the school...I could also have Doctor Phlox conduct an assessment."

Even though he was agreeing with what Admiral Pike had to say, Leonard found himself suddenly thinking about Jim again. If Jim were here, his stepson's problems would have been figured out long ago and some sort of action would have been taken, as Jim would know how to handle this.

"Doctor McCoy?" Admiral Pike asked, concerned by the doctor's sudden prolonged silence.

Leonard sighed, "Sorry, sir, I was just thinking that if Jim were still around, he'd have some instinct on how to handle this situation," he admitted. "Why he had to leave like he did-"

As he too was thinking about how Jim's disappearance without a trace left an unfillable gap in Starfleet, Admiral Pike nodded and the two men were silent.

"Father, the only transporter I can hack into is one that seems to be located in the office of Doctor McCoy," Lorian replied as he worked busily at the small transporter that was in the master bedroom. "All other transporters require an advanced clearance code..."

As he gripped to the console for dear life, Jim nodded and focused his remaining energies on George, who was in the Snugli that was on Lorian's chest. Jim knew that if he didn't get to Medical soon, he would die of this mysterious illness. The bedroom transporter was their only option.

Thankfully, Lorian knew how to operate it and was now prepping for three to transport.

"All right, Father, the transporter is prepared," Lorian stated, moving over and helping the weary Jim up to the PADD. "Computer, initiate emergency transport for three to Starfleet Medical."

Within seconds, the three had dematerialized from the shoebox of a civilian rental home.

Meanwhile, in his step-father's office, Charlie had finished reading the PADD and was wandering around the office, looking for something else to read. He was already bored out of his mind.

All of the books were on the higher shelves, just out of his reach and the only stool in the office was next to the emergency transporter console, which was never to be used by anyone but Leonard.

Suddenly, the console switched on automatically and began to beep. Frowning in confusion, Charlie climbed up on the stool and saw that the console was flashing 'Emergency Transport Initiated: Subjects Waiting to Be Beamed Into Arrival Destination: Proceed with Transport? Y/N."

Charlie pressed the 'Y' button and within seconds, three beings materialized on the pad.

Almost immediately, one of the beings puked and leaned against the wall. Charlie screamed.

Having heard the scream and figuring that Charlie had gotten hurt somehow, Leonard ran into the room, "JIM!" he shouted, shocked at seeing his friend standing on the transporter near death.

Jim fell forward into Leonard's outstretched arms, "Bones," he moaned, quickly fighting to stay conscious and losing. "My stomach hurts..."

Without warning, Jim puked again and passed into unconsciousness, yet was still breathing.

Swearing loudly, Leonard scooped Jim up into his arms and dashed from the room, yelling for medical assistance. Charlie gazed at the two beings still on the transporter pad. The older one looked calm, yet very determined and the younger one was asleep in its pouch.

"Who are you?" Charlie asked, slightly afraid of the pointy-eared beings.

Lorian stepped off the transporter with his arms around George, "I am Lorian Tucker Kirk and this is George Lorian Kirk," he replied in a toneless voice. "I assume you are Charles Tucker Archer?"

"My name is Charlie," Charlie replied. "Is your dad gonna be okay?"

Lorian was silent for a moment, "I do not know, young Charlie," he replied.

There was silence as Charlie and Lorian continued to stare at one another, trying to contemplate what would happen now that destiny had seen fit to re-introduce their fathers to each other.

Across space, on the desert-like surface of New Vulcan, Spock stood on the balcony of the home that he shared with his mate, Nyota, and their daughter, Amanda. He felt strangely unsettled.

He had been out of his poison-induced coma for nearly a year and a half now and the rehabilitation process had been quick. However, Spock had no desire to return to the chaos of Starfleet.

The time was better spent assisting his father and Spock Prime, who was known as a nameless being who had lots of useful knowledge to assist in the rebuilding of Vulcan socirty. Spock Prime had encouraged him to return, yet he had to consider Nyota's feelings on the subject of Starfleet.

When she was not assisting in establishing communications arrays all over the planet, Nyota would spend time with him and their daughter. She had continued to state that she had neither trust nor confidence in the abilities of James Kirk as a leader, as he had risked countless lives.

Pursing his lips, Spock continued to stare outward, the feeling of unsettlement never ceasing.