Author's Note: This four-part story came about as a desire to provide some tender moments for the crew before they set off into the black. What began as a one-shot evolved quickly into this 11,000 word fic which explores more than a decision Jim must make- it explores friendship and family in a hurt/comfort sort of way. Joanna comes along for the ride here in this fic, McCoy is the ever-faithful best friend, and Spock is the logic that challenges Jim. Thank you, DLB48, for the wonderful beta assistance!
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.
Jim awakened slowly and purposefully, luxuriating in a rare moment of contentment as he peeled his eyes open to greet the morning. Dancing light rays flanked by staccato silhouettes gracefully played across the living room floor of his apartment. The sight mesmerized him as he struggled to emerge from his deep sleep. Quietly contemplating the last full day he had on Earth for five years, he finally came out of his mental cocoon. Jim raised his arms behind his head in a comfortable stretch and peered down at himself, startling at the amusing sight. Two pink, fluffy slippers peeked out from underneath his blanket.
With boyish whimsy carried over from the previous night, he wiggled his legs and feet and chuckled lightly. The slippers most certainly donned his own feet. Joanna hadn't been kidding around when she'd given them to him, stating with her luminous blue eyes that they were a present for him and on his feet they must stay. Somehow, the too-small slippers kept their position, perhaps the result of a certain little girl's magic, that magic being a combination of love and imagination.
Aware that he could awaken the fair-haired sleeping beauty who lay partially on him and partially on her father, Jim eased from underneath the four year old's quiet and still form as best he could. He laid her on the blanket he'd abandoned. She never stirred but breathed evenly and softly against his arms, only letting out one small, indelicate snore that tickled his skin. Jim smiled as he lifted his arms away from the little girl. He removed his honorary slippers and had just begun to rise when a bigger snore came from her father. The noise sounded like it came from a pig rather than a southern doctor. Fighting the urge to let out a full-fledged laugh, Jim scrambled away from the two McCoys.
His bare feet crunched a few stray Space-O's. He stopped short, wincing and hunching simultaneously at the sound that could awaken sleeping beauty and her father. He glanced furtively at his guests. They remained asleep and Jim inched carefully in the direction of his bedroom, managing to escape any other remnants of their late night cereal binge. Lights weren't necessary. He'd kept a few blinds open for they'd watched the stars, a favorite past time that Joanna and Jim shared and enjoyed together.
He dressed carelessly, hardly glancing at the shirt he pulled over his head or the shorts he stepped into. He neglected to comb his hair and hastily tied his shoes. An unsavory thought was heralded in as he reached for his water bottle beside his bed and pushed away the happy time he had spent with Joanna. They'd frolicked the night before in all sorts of play and in every little silliness the little girl desired. It left him so suddenly that Jim's breath caught painfully. With a strangled sigh, Jim dropped his hand and sunk onto the edge of his bed. He stared at the floor, wondering why he had to think of such a thing, today of all days. He'd no time to ponder life's mysteries, his mother's choices, or her bearing on his own life. He repeated the day's itinerary silently in an attempt to force her out of his mind but her presence infiltrated so deeply that Jim could not find a place of reprieve.
This wasn't the first occurrence. In fact, a month ago Jim had been plagued with the same thoughts and the only way he'd escaped Winona was by being snide to Bones, who'd called him on it immediately. He couldn't use his friend as an outlet for his anger as he had before. Bones' time was precious with his daughter and today being the last day he'd see her for five years, Jim's selfish desire to unload on his friend had to be suppressed. He'd hold it in this time, even if it caused himself more pain.
His mother couldn't be worth the agony, could she? Jim swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Perhaps in another universe he'd call her. It had to be done someday. But today and in this universe, he could not. He'd run, just as he'd planned.
Jim lurched to his feet. He grabbed his music audio and earbuds before stumbling out his bedroom door and sneaking past his still-sleeping guests. If Jim didn't leave now, he'd miss his chance to try to rid himself of the troubling decision. Bones would see the panic in Jim's expression and stop him.
Jim stepped out of the complex and instead of the additional sunlight giving him an encouraging and bright outlook for the ceremonial day, it instilled even more hysteria. His mother would not hide from either the light or the dark. She was ambiguous much like everything which haunted him. Jim began his run with no regard to anything but racing himself to exertion and beyond the ability to think.
Music pounded in his ears as he ran for perhaps an hour, maybe even more, past the Starfleet campus and into a civilian park. His burden lifted as he sped by other early risers, although he himself was unaware of it disappearing. The very moment Jim's mother all but disappeared, he spied a lone boy, not much older than Joanna, standing on the top of a knoll. Slowing to a jog, he rounded the singular person, not wanting to approach but nudged by a mental warning to carefully observe.
Within seconds, Jim's instincts were confirmed.
As Jim silently observed the forlorn but otherwise angelic boy before him, his heart constricted painfully. Blonde hair crowned the child's face and his features were youthfully handsome, wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks aside. A small hand fisted and wiped eyes, then nose. The boy never looked around but remained curled into himself. Once-receding memories of his own mother and feelings of childhood abandonment resurfaced, provoking his decision to act.
No one stood near the child and no one walking or running past seemed apt to claim him. Jim halted his jogging and began to walk the short distance to the small, rounded hill. The boy must have seen him, for Jim noticed instantly the slight tension mounting in the child's shoulders. Jim approached casually and directly in the boy's sight. He stopped halfway up the knoll, a fair enough distance away. With exaggerated movements, he stopped his music and pulled out his ear buds then bent at the knees, crouching in the neatly cut grass.
Hoping that the boy would see that Jim meant him no harm, Jim waited and simply watched. The boy's silent tears elongated with one pitiful shudder of his shoulders.
"Hi, there," Jim softly called out once the boy peered at him through his eyelashes. "I'm Jim. I was wondering, are you lost?"
The boy gave no answer but his shoulders relaxed and the bright eyes shining with tears glanced Jim's way for a longer look. Although everything in Jim wanted to pick up the small boy and console him, Jim decided to wait another moment before speaking again. He instead took stock of all occurring around them. The morning crowd thickened but still no one came to claim the child who stood so dejectedly on the knoll. The inconsequential hill, set off the beaten path, was easily visible.
In another effort to attract the boy's interest, Jim looked to the ground and plucked a mysteriously long blade of grass and tied it in a knot. He found another and another, adding each to the others until he absently formed a constellation. When he got to the tenth blade of grass and his third constellation, he spied what looked to be like pieces of a communicator by the boy's feet. Camouflaged by the grass, the few scattered components of the comm meant either someone purposely broke the device or the boy somehow had broken it himself.
Instinct told him it was the former.
He rose to his feet, constellations hanging from his hand at his side. "Do you need help with that?"
The boy wrapped his arms around him in deference and did not reply. Jim stepped closer, then again when the boy kicked the pieces towards him.
"I could probably fix it. Would you like me to?"
The boy's lips continued to tremble in his silence. His eyes watched Jim with apprehension but curiously, the child seemed to have no fear of Jim as a stranger.
"I'll get started then." Jim grabbed the four pieces and made himself comfortable by sitting on the dewy grass. His brow furrowed when he realized the boy's broken comm was no ordinary comm. He blinked up at the boy. "This is an audio-transmitter unit for the deaf."
The boy swallowed and wiped at his red-rimmed eyes and still held back. It was then Jim deduced he could not read lips. Jim smiled softly at the child. The lack of that skill would not bar Jim from communicating with him. They'd figure out what was wrong together.
"I'm Jim. Jim Kirk. I can fix this for you," Jim signed. "But first, where are your parents?"
The child's face lit up with joy. He signed, "I thought it was you. The captain. James Tiberious Kirk. But I wanted to be sure before I talked to you."
"That's me," Jim grinned. "Why are you alone?"
"My cousin was supposed to stay with me but his friends came over." The boy's face returned to its previous sad state. He sniffed and another tear spilled over onto his cheeks.
"They did this?" Jim pointed to the broken unit.
"They said it was worthless to someone who was stupid anyways."
"I'm sorry," Jim frowned. "They shouldn't have said that. Are your parents here?"
"My mom was only going to take my little sister back to the pond. They forgot her stuffed animal. My cousin left me and I got lost."
"You thought being on this high hill would help your mother find you. That was smart."
The child beamed and nodded.
"What's your name?" Jim asked.
"Matthew," the boy spelled.
"Nice to meet you, Matthew. It won't take me too long to fix this." The boy nodded again and Jim went to work. He fingered the pieces loosely in his hands. The unit wasn't missing any parts but one or two had received the brunt of the destruction. After properly bending and unbending the dilapidated components of the unit, Jim began to piece them together. Within another minute, Jim clicked the final parts together and handed the perfectly functioning unit back to the boy.
"Good as new."
"Thank you, Captain Kirk." The boy now spoke as he signed, his words halting. He hooked the unit to his belt and turned it on. The boy adjusted the tiny speakers in his ears. "Now my mom can find me. You can talk to me now. I can hear a little with my ATU. I wasn't born deaf. It was because I was in an accident at age 4. I'm almost six.."
"You're a smart boy, Matthew," Jim said as the boy sat in the grass beside him. "Never let anyone tell you differently."
"I can't read lips yet. I am trying."
"You're trying and that is what counts."
"I won't give up." The boy's chin lifted determinedly. "I do well in school. My teachers tell me so."
"I bet your mom is proud of you." The boy beamed his answer. To Jim's chagrin, his own eyes pricked. Jim looked away, uncomfortable with his unprecedented show of emotion. He absently twirled the green, knotted structures in his hands. "Good. That's good."
"What is that?" The boy pointed to Jim's oddly shaped blades of grass now resting in his palm.
"This." Jim extended his palm with one of his masterpieces. "Is the Gemini constellation. Here, you can have it."
The boy nodded excitedly as he draped it around his wrist. "Thank you. The twins. They work well together. Like you and Commander Spock. I know. I learn everything about you because my aunt is in Starfleet and knows you."
Jim blinked in surprise, both at the comparison the boy made and his obvious interest in him. "Who is your-"
"Matthew!" a feminine cry of relief came from the base of the knoll. Matthew jumped to his feet as the woman scurried uphill, a little girl hanging from her arm.
"Mom," the boy signed and spoke the word with as much happiness that filled his expression. "Look, it's Captain Kirk."
"Matthew, why did you leave your cousin? Why couldn't I find you until now? It's been twenty minutes. Oh, Matthew." The boy's mother let go of the other child and heartily embraced him. She drew back and gazed sternly at him. "Don't do that again."
"I didn't do anything," the boy signed. "Drake, his friends came and sidetracked him."
"That boy," she muttered darkly. Her expression never changed as she looked at Jim. "And you met a stranger. Wonderful."
"No." the boy shook his head. "He helped me. He fixed my unit so you could find me."
"You are Jim Kirk?" She questioned warily.
"I am," he nodded. "I'm sorry if I caused any trouble."
"No," she sighed and grasped her daughter's hand as the little child turned to chase after a butterfly. "You were the reason I found him so quickly. Thank you. I'm Ann, by the way."
"You're welcome, Ann." Jim hesitated, wanting to inform the woman what else this cousin of Matthew's did for the sake of Matthew's safety. "Um...speaking of that unit...Matthew wasn't the one who broke it."
"Oh," Ann's eyes widened at Jim's implication and she glanced at her son. "Matthew? Drake and his friends did this?"
"Yes."
"I'm not surprised. Things like this have happened before."
"Your son is astute and brave," Jim offered encouragingly. Matthew's eyes drifted to meet Jim's. He smiled warmly, hoping to leave Matthew in good spirits. "He thinks like an officer in Starfleet."
Ann ruffled Matthew's hair in a fond gesture. "He should. He reads up on it as much as his aunt did growing up. He also idolizes you. Well, we must go."
"Good-bye, Matthew," Jim offered his hand. Matthew shook it without hesitation, still beaming at him. "It was nice to meet you. I know you were scared, but you didn't let that fear get in the way of thinking through your problem. In fact, I think it helped you. You also didn't speak ill of your cousin and I admire that."
"Thank you, Captain Kirk," the boy flushed lightly. "It was nice to meet you, too."
With that, Matthew and his mother and sister vacated the knoll. Jim remained behind and watched the trio trudge down the hill. Ann curled her arm around Matthew's shoulders, expression purely affectionate. Matthew's countenance blossomed with the confidence of his mother's love. Jim swallowed uncomfortably at the show of affection and was about to look away when the boy turned his head and sent Jim a lopsided grin.
Jim smiled faintly and waved. He was sorry to have such a short meeting with the intelligent, brave boy and hoped someday he could talk with him again. It would be doubtful, especially since Jim had not learned the name of his aunt. They became mere dots in the distance. Jim's focus lessened on his new acquaintances. Jim closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness emphasized the fact he'd been gone a long time- too long. His left leg gave in and he barely anchored his stance with his other leg as he fought the imbalance surging through his body.
Jim exhaled a rough, slow breath. His body had reached its current stage of fatigue and weariness because of poor planning and desperation. He'd forgotten that water bottle and his comm directly beside it. He'd also not eaten since the night before.
He rubbed his eyes as the internal struggle returned. He laid blame where it was due- the part of his heart which never healed and always gaped open when he was most vulnerable. The image of Matthew's family, imprinted on his mind, morphed from a happy observance to a mocking portrait of everything Jim's childhood had sorely lacked.
Jim dropped his hand limply to his side, unaware that it was now he who stood, forlorn and alone, at the peak of the knoll.
AN #2: My mother, an interpreter for the deaf, was the inspiration behind the young, original character in this first chapter. I wanted to acknowledge that but not as a spoiler before the chapter. :-) Thank you for reading and I always appreciate reviews!