"Oh!" it comes at almost as a sigh. He was 14. He's been to Tarsus and struggled through that. His hair, once reaching past his shoulders in gentle waves, had been chopped off with a knife that he, or one of the other kids, had found. But his mother's sigh was not about Tarsus.
"Mom?" He was nervous. His mother had tears in her eyes. But then she smiled.
"Your father," She said. "He always wanted two sons. I wanted one of each. This way, we both get what we wanted." He smiled. His nerves starting to melt. "But Claire isn't a very male name kiddo."
"I was-" He gulped, hearing that name gave him pause. But the way his mom said it, like it wasn't attached to anything anymore. Like she hadn't lost her daughter. "I was hoping you'd help me."
"James," his mom said. "I-" She froze. "When he- When he died, your father didn't know you were- were female. I told him-"
"You told him what ma?"
"I told him you were a boy," Winona said. "That your name was- James Tiberius Kirk."
"He wanted two sons," James said. "So you let him have two sons."
"No, that was you," Winona grabbed her son's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.
"I like the names," James said, hugging his mother back. "It's a little formal though."
"Jim, then," Winona suggested. "And we'll get you a proper haircut."
"Thanks mom."