A/N: This is the completely re-written version of the story. I came in after about a year and noticed my writing was childish at best. So, I scrapped it all and I'm starting over again. I'm back with a meatier plot and good enough writing (I hope). I've already completed four chapters and working on the fifth. Leave me reviews, if you enjoyed it, have pointers, etc.

Disclaimer: Star trek belongs to gene Roddenberry and Paramount and whoever else signed over the dotted lines.

Chapter 1

Star date: 2247.180

The shuttle landed in the depot with a dwindling whirr of the engines. The two-day long trip had finally come to an end and the passengers were more than happy to get out for some fresh air. The pinkish glow of the setting sun cast an eerie glow to their faces. Many of the passengers were greeted by their friends and relatives waiting in the open yard, holding out placards.

The final passenger, James Kirk, all but fourteen years old searched the crowds for a familiar face. Standing on the right side corner of the group was a middle-aged man with fair hair swept to one side, a jacket on his back and one hand holding the tiny arms of a little boy, who could only be his son. The boy was holding a placard with the words "JT Kirk" written in bold red. James sorted through the luggage that was being spewed out through a carousel to find an old, worn duffel bag. He hoisted it to his shoulders and walked slowly towards the boy, waving an arm to catch their attention.

The little boy caught sight of him, nudged his father and pointed at him. The man let go of his son's arm and came forward to greet him, his boy trailing behind him.

"Jim! How good to see you!" he said, holding out an arm. Jim grasped his hands, giving a firm shake.

"Nice to see you too, Uncle David" he said, giving the man a warm smile. He then ruffled the little boy's hair "How ya doing Max?"

The boy grinned, showing two broken teeth "Awesome!"

David Rice laughed "Well, come on. Your aunt is cooking up a storm! Let's not make her wait".

He made to take the duffel from Jim "No, no… it's okay, Uncle David. I got it". David took the duffel from him anyway "Don't be silly, son. Who's got Max then?" he said, already moving away.

Max looked up at Jim with hopeful eyes. Jim mock-sighed, but grinned anyway ruining the effect "Guess that'll be me"

Jim put an arm over Max's shoulders, following David Rice outside the depot to his hover-car.

Dinner that night had been one of the best nights (nope, scratch that - the best night) in Jim's life. He had laughed and talked and been treated as part of the family, as if it had been that way for ever.

He had quite effectively forgotten that, he was here because his step-father had refused to take him in after being held in prison for a night for driving the antique Corvette into the quarry.

He had forgotten that his brother had left him with that freak of a step-father, to get away from his problems.

He had forgotten that his mother was in Deep Space and could not come to get him, even though she had wished for it with her life.

He was not angry at his mother. No, he couldn't be. She was a kind, loving woman, who had stayed at home to raise her sons with practically no money. She had tried getting jobs, but she was over-qualified and an Engineering degree from Starfleet Academy guaranteed a job only in, well, Starfleet itself. And rural Iowa was no place to be with brains like hers.

Running out of money and options, she had to take up a job in Starfleet again to make ends meet. She had gotten married to Frank Damon, out of love (partially), but also for having someone to care for her sons when she was away. He was a good man, a widower and a budding journalist for a small news agency in Iowa. All would be well, or so she believed.

She always took up the shortest missions possible to spend more time with her children. But, as luck would have it, the great storm of 2244 wreaked havoc in most parts of Iowa. It destroyed the agency Frank worked for, and was closed down. Frank had searched for jobs, but the whole state was in a recession, and he had to settle for a pathetic desk job. Winona's meager Ensign Salary was not sufficient and she would have to accept a long-standing promotion to earn a sufficient amount for her family. But, accepting her new Lieutenant position meant longer missions and less time to spend with her kids. And then, the chaos began.

It was about the same time, when her kids were growing into their teenage years. It was only natural to rebel, but Kirkian genes probably have a double dose or something with their need to rebel.

Sam had always despised Frank, for replacing his father, and the older he grew, the more frustrated he was by his excuse of a father. Frank, already depressed with his shitty career path, took to smacking him when his potty mouth got out of hand, which was a lot. Frank tried to avert his thoughts, by taking up alcohol and drugs, which worsened his anger at Sam. Jim, who had always been the model student in school, idolized Sam in a naïve way (the same way all little brothers idolize their older brothers). He was convinced that what Sam did was right, and started emulating him, and got tossed around by Frank. It was enough to drive Frank mad.

So, no, Jim did not hate his mother, but he hated Frank in every way possible. It was almost a relief that he was here in Tarsus IV with his mother's brother and his family, who had readily accepted Jim and asked him to live with them. Winona was overjoyed, and had produced divorce papers to Frank from Deep Space, but also worried sick for her first son who ran away.

And here Jim was, spending time with people who were more family to him than Frank could ever be.

A/N: I know it's a small chapter! But don't worry, as the story progresses they will be longer.