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emOnce upon a time, there was a boy who loved space. /em
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emHe also loved people, a lot. And he had a lot of love to give. He didn't think he'd ever run out. And the world was so big, and amazing, and beautiful, and everything was always just so interesting. He loved being alive. He loved his life. He loved his mom. /em
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emBut once upon a time, that boy's mom got sick. And that boy's family changed. And that boy learned that some people aren't as good as they think they are, and he learned that family doesn't always mean you won't be hurt. He learns, very quickly, that safety in life is a lie./em
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emThings were a whole lot harder and not full of love and joy. And that boy learned the hard way that you can suffer for years, and the people you hold dear to your heart can suffer for years, and the people you hold dear to the heart can cause you to suffer for years, and life doesn't care. You can love the world as much as you want, and the world isn't going to come in on a white horse and save you from the pain./em
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emOnce upon a time, there was a boy who loved stars./em
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emOnce upon a time, there was a boy who used to wish upon the moon./em
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emOnce upon a time, life knocked that boy down again and again until he was too afraid to look back up at the sky and raise his head for fear of getting knocked down again. Once upon a time, he didn't remember how to see the world as beautiful and wonderful and full of joy./em
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emBut once upon a time, he found a bit of hope. And that boy latched on to it like a lifeline and followed it to a chance, and when that chance showed up, he took it. /em
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emOnce upon a time, there was a boy who learned to live with an open heart again./em
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emThis is his story./em
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pJim has always loved the rush and flow of airports./p
pHe loves the incredible variety of people that are always walking past, loves people-watching and trying to figure out who might be going where, and why. The kids who are excited and pressed up against the window glass as hard as they can, like they're trying to squeeze themselves through it and out to the planes on the tarmac, make Jim smile from where he sits near the gate. He wishes he could still get away with doing that alongside them./p
pBut mostly what he loves about airports is the sense of anticipation that always comes along with them. If you're in an airport, you're always emgoing/em somewhere. You're headed towards something, and so is every person around you. It's special. It's something fresh and new and feels a little bit like freedom. It's impossible to feel trapped or stagnant if you're in an airport. The very foundation of the place is motion—literal and metaphorical./p
pAirports, to Jim, mean changes of scenery and breaths of fresh air, and new places. Today, the airport also means emnew start/em./p
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em"Flight 2204 to Los Angeles, boarding now."/em
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pJim swore he felt his heart jump as he stands and swings his old backpack over one shoulder and walks to where the line is forming to board. He was one of the first people there, and when he made the walk down the corridor into the plane itself, it was still nearly empty and full of that pre-flight quiet and the sounds of the cabin air system blowing. He returned the friendly greeting of one of the flight attendants and quickly parked himself in one of the window seats just in front of a wing. Jim thanked his lucky stars that he was able to get a window seat. It's always been his favorite place to sit./p
pOver the next fifteen minutes or so, the plane filled. Last checks were performed and the gate corridor is detached. As the plane started its slow roll to the runway, it began to hit Jim that…he was really doing this. It wasn't just a hope anymore. It wasn't just a plan that's off in the future. He was really going all the way to the West Coast, and starting a new life for himself in college. He was really, truly going to be free from everything at last. He could start over./p
pHe can be whatever he wants. He can feel new./p
pThe plane paused, ignited the engines. Jim gripped the armrests of his seat, leaned forward slightly without realizing it. The plane began to accelerate down the runway, faster, and faster, with Jim's face pressed up against the window watching the grass whiz past as the plane picked up speed. When the plane lifted off the ground and began its climb, Jim let out a soft sound that was half laugh and half sob, and rather like the second cousin of a breathless gasp./p
pAs the Midwest fell away beneath him, he found himself smiling broadly, and absolutely, definitely, not crying a bit./p
pAfter a few minutes of watching the land and low clouds drift past, he settled back in his seat, wiping at his eyes with the back of his wrist. He has nothing to look forward to except pure opportunity and freedom to live and learn and experience, and to become what he's always felt he could be if he could just get the chance. As Jim closes his eyes, he imagines what freedom and opportunity are going to feel like. He wouldn't give this choice up for the world./phr /
pJim finally spotted an open seat a few rows in front of him, and mentally put a claim on it. emMine/em./p
pHe'd just had a two hour layover at LAX, and was finally getting on the connecting flight to San Francisco. Jim counted himself lucky to not have brought a large carry-on bag with him as he ducked into the row. He was glad not to have to find an open slot in the overhead storage areas./p
pHowever, he did still keep a wary eye on the people around him as they tried shoving their bags in the already-overstuffed overhead bins. He'd been hit on the head by a suitcase once. Not really something he wanted to repeat./p
pAs Jim stared out the window at the flight controllers out on the tarmac, he was suddenly started by a man dropping down into the seat next to him with a loud huff. Jim turned to him with a smile./p
p"Hi!" he offered, politely./p
pThe man glanced at him. "Hi." It sounded more like a grunt than a word./p
p"I'm Jim," Jim said./p
p"McCoy."/p
pJim raised his eyebrows. "That your first name?"/p
p"No," the man said, "it's Leonard. Leonard McCoy." Jim could hear a slight drawl in his voice. emWonder where he's from?/em/p
p"Nice to meet you!" Jim said brightly. "I'm Jim Kirk, if we're giving full names. I'm headed to San Francisco for college, on my way from Iowa."/p
p"That's nice."/p
pMcCoy clearly didn't want to have this conversation. Every part of his demeanor was giving off strong emleave-me-alone/em signals. As the flight attendants closed the plane door and started going through the standard safety instructions, Jim noticed McCoy's knuckles turning white as he gripped the armrests hard enough to crush an orange./p
p"So, Leonard McCoy, what brings you to San Francisco? Or are you only passing through?"/p
pMcCoy's neck cracked from how fast his head snapped over to look at Jim. "What?"/p
p"Why are you going to San Francisco?" Jim repeated patiently. /p
p"Uh," McCoy's eyes darted to the window and back as the plane started to roll. "Med school."/p
p"Oh yeah? That's awesome!"/p
p"Mm." McCoy was rapidly reaching an impressive shade of white./p
p"Hey, are you okay?" Jim touched the man's shoulder. McCoy nearly jumped out of his skin. He locked eyes with Jim, looking a little bit embarrassed and a whole lot terrified./p
p"I really don't like flying," he said quietly./p
pJim nodded. "I'm guessing that this was your only option then. Would it help if I tried to distract you?"/p
p"Please," McCoy gritted out. He was so tense Jim worried he was going to strain some tendons./p
p"Questions better, or do you want me to ramble about something?"/p
p"Questions please. Too easy for me to tune you out." When Jim laughed, McCoy quickly added, "Nothing personal."/p
p"Okay," Jim said, still smiling. "Med school, huh? What made you want to be a doctor?"/p
pMcCoy took a deep breath, firmly kept his gaze locked on Jim and away from the window, and focused on his answer./phr /
pBy the time they landed at SFO, Jim was pretty sure he'd made his first friend in the newly-christened Bones. Or at least a good acquaintance. He liked the man. They'd already exchanged numbers and gone through the litany of the standard get-to-know-you questions, plus plenty extra. They caught a bus shuttle to the campus together, since they'd discovered they were headed for the same university./p
pJim was a freshman, technically, and Bones already had his Bachelors. But that didn't seem to matter for them. Bones explained that he still had three years of med school left before he graduated—"Perfect! I'm going to graduate in three, so that's right on time! We can celebrate together!"—because he'd already done one but had to take a leave of absence last year for family matters./p
pJim didn't press for more, and Bones appreciated it. Bones also didn't ask Jim why he never seemed to mention his family or much of what he'd been doing up until now. They just talked about the here and now and what Johnny Cash songs were best and tried to one-up each other with the worst airport layover times. By the time they had to split off to do their respective check-ins and find their dorms, they'd made plans to meet up the next day at the dining hall for lunch./p
pJim waved goodbye to Bones and smiled broadly, and took a deep breath in. Even the air seemed different here. It was new and exciting and perfect for a new start./p
p Turning to head in to the undergraduate check-in area, he couldn't help the extra spring in his step as he pushed through the doors. College was looking great so far, and he was so ready for all of it to begin./p
p"Jim!" he heard, and turned to see Pike striding towards him from his position near one of the tables. Jim's grin got even broader. Pike caught him in a bone-crushing hug. "It's good to see you, son. Your flight okay?"/p
p"It was awesome."/p
p"I'm glad to hear it." Pike put an arm around his shoulders and led him to one of the tables. "Let's get you checked in, and then we'll figure out what dorm you're in. You ready for this?"/p
pJim glanced at Pike. "I'm embeyond/em ready. Just point me in the right direction and tell me where to go."/p
pPike laughed, and Jim couldn't help laughing too. It felt right. emThis,/em thought Jim, feeling truly hopeful for the first time in years, emis the beginning of something good./em/p
