Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Author's note: I took an ambien last night and I wrote this...so...yeah.
This deals with dark stuff. You have been warned.
Cold water splashed into his face.
"gahhhh" Jim spluttered, shocked directly from sleep.
"Get the hell outta bed boy. I told you last night I needed you to get yer ass in gear this morning. Yer Mother's coming home tonight, so this house better be shiny as my goddam car before she steps foot off that shuttle, ya hear?" Jim rubbed the water out of his eyes, nodding emphatically.
"Yes Sir, I do". He'd always been the good kid between himself and Sam, but now that Sam was gone, and after that dumb stunt Jim'd pulled with his Dad's car, he was on pretty thin ice with Frank all the time these days. Frank stomped out of his room, leaving Jim to dry off and get dressed.
A few hours later, with all his chores done outside, and the house practically spotless inside, Jim thought it'd be safe to get some lunch. He tiptoed down the stairs, and past where Frank slept on the couch, trying to get to the replicator without disturbing his stepfather. He was just about to settle down at the table with his sandwich when he heard a call.
"Jim? That you boy? Bring me some lunch too and sit in here with me." Jim swallowed deeply. Before Sam had left Jim had been mostly off in his own little world. The kids at school picked on him, and since Sam was in Middle School he couldn't to much for Jim there. But at home Jim just holed up and read his PADD all day and stayed outta everyone's hair, and Sam made mischief and got punished for it. Sam got slapped, sometimes punched or kicked, shoved, and all over knocked around frequently, which is why he left. Jim had always avoided the brunt of the beatings, but one thing he'd never been able to avoid was Frank's creepy "discussions". Jim never even brought them up to his big brother, because, frankly, he was embarrassed. Now that Sam was gone, the talks got more frequent, and could happen out in the open.
With shaking hands, Jim brought the two sandwiches to the living room and sat down next to Frank as his stepfather indicated. Franks hand rested on his thigh.
"Boy, you been good today. I don't know what's gotten into you recently. You been acting like your little asshole brother, but now he's gone, and you're stepping up to the plate I guess. You've always been the good one, the one that I didn't want to punish hard, and I'd hate to see that ruined, okay Jimmy?" His grip on Jim's thigh got tighter and moved upward slightly.
"You been a good boy today, haven't you Jimmy?" Jim's head hung in shame, eyes refusing to raise and look at the hand touching him. The hand tightened firmly.
"Haven't you?" he repeated. Jim winced.
"Yea, Yes Sir". He cringed out.
"That's right. Today you don't get punished, okay? You been good, so I'm gonna treat you real good, okay?" Franks hand slowly moved up Jim's body towards his neck and he tilted Jim's head back, leaning in to breath deep the scent of his neck. He flipped Jim around, so that Frank was above him straddling his hips, staring down at the boy. Jim, shaking like a leaf, began to unbutton his shirt.
Frank knocked his fingers aside, speeding things up. He pulled Jim's shirt off, and then his own. He looked down at Jim's body.
"You're getting older boy. Getting a man's body now." He leaned forward and bit Jim's clavicle, hard enough to leave a mark before reaching down to undo both their pants.
"Stand up boy", Frank ordered, pulling Jim to his feet. Jim felt himself slammed against the wall face first, and his jeans dragged down to his ankles. He steeled himself, knowing what was coming.
Two hours later, Jim was finishing up his chores. He walked back into the house to put away the cleaning products, and was met with a slap to the face.
"What the fuck is this boy?" Frank snarled in his ear. Jim looked up and saw a note from his teacher from the mail. "You fucking up in school now? Huh?" He slapped Jim again hard. Jim's head snapped to the side as he fell down. "You gonna be like your idiot brother now?" He kicked Jim hard in the side, and grabbed his arm to pull him up. "Go grab the wall you little prick" Frank said, pushing him towards the hard surface. Jim knew what this meant, he'd seen Frank do this to Sam a few times. He pulled his shirt off, and faced the wall, both hands leaning against it. He heard the slide of leather against denim.
"You little pissant. You think you can start behaving like your asshole brother? You think you can get away with being a prick by waving your ass at me and think I'll get distracted?" The sound of a whistle came through the air before his back felt a slice of fire cut him across. A second joined it, and another. Soon his hands were digging into the wall, clinging for dear life, and he hoped desperately that Frank wouldn't see the tears streaming down his face. Eventually the beating stopped, and Frank told him to clean himself up nice before his Mom got home in a few hours.
She got home and they had a pleasant dinner. Only small talk was made, about Starfleet gossip, and what Winona hoped to do while she was on shore leave for two weeks. She had given Jim a hug when she arrive, barely aware of what she was doing, and he realized his struggle to hide his grimace of pain was practically unnecessary. When he went to bed that night, he looked up at the stars through his skylight, and thought of his real dad. He bet his real dad would be pissed if he knew what Frank was doing. His favorite fantasy was to imagine as he fell asleep at night was that his dad would somehow show up, it would turn out he had been alive all along but stuck in space, and he would see what had happened to his children. He would look at Winona coldly, no longer loving her the same way he did after how she had neglected her children. He would hug Sam, and whisper advice to him, and tell him that he needed to be strong for his brother. Then he would walk into Jim's room, and see Frank beating him against the wall, or kicking him in the stomach, and he would pull him off. He would kick the crap out of Jim's Stepfather and kick him so hard in the dick that Frank would be disabled. Then he would pull Jim into his arms and hold him and tell him how brave and strong he was and how much he loved him. Sometimes that fantasy put Jim to sleep with a smile. Other times, like tonight, it made him cry silently.
Cold water splashed into his face. Jim jumped up immediately with his hands held in fists protecting his face, breath coming fast and sharp.
"Whoa, Jim. You're late for class. I've been trying to wake you for fifteen minutes kid". Bones face came into view and a concerned hand placed onto his shoulder. Jim knocked the hand off.
"You don't need to splash fucking water into my face. Goddamit." He stomped off towards the bathroom and began the shower. When he came out, Bones was gone. Jim hurried off for class.
Bones came home late that night to find Jim asleep in bed. Fair enough, it was two in the morning. He sat down exhausted on his bed across from Jim's, pulling his boots off his aching feet. He noticed that Jim was in his usual position, back against the wall, hands curled up into fists in his sleep, muttering under his breath. He could never hear the words that the kid muttered, but the general tension coming off Jim screamed nightmare to him. He longed to wake the kid up from it, but he had learned the hard way that unless Jim got outta control, trying to wake him up from a small nightmare usually meant a shiner for Bones.
He still couldn't quite figure the kid out. He had nightmares frequently, jumped at the lightest touch. Came onto Bones constantly but got supremely uncomfortable if Bones joked back in kind. It was clear the kid came from a not so great home. You'd have to be an idiot to not get that. His underlying skittish nature covered by his cocky attitude screamed dysfunctional childhood. His mind just boggled at the implications of Jim's behavior. What had happened to this kid to make him such a bundle of oxymorons. He was promiscuous to the point of gross, but he got uncomfortable at sex jokes directed at himself. He could fight as well as anyone at Starfleet, and yet he flinched if you coughed near him. He drank like a fish, yet eyed Bones warily if he had more than two drinks at a time.
Jim jumped in his sleep and punched the wall. The pain startled him awake, but he laid there breathing fast, looking up at the ceiling in confusion. He looked over at Bones sitting on his bed, pulling off his boots, and just staring over at Jim with concern.
"You okay kid?" He asked, as he had many times before. Jim nodded and caught his breath. He thought back to this morning.
"Hey Bones? Don't wake me up with water anymore, okay? That's the shit my stepdad used to do. I fucking hate that". Bones looked up surprised, and nodded quickly.
"Yeah sure Jim. No problem." He quickly stripped down to his shorts, and got into bed.
"You wanna tell me about it, Jim?" He asked, just for the hell of it, and knowing the answer already. He'd tried many times before in the few years he'd known the kid. Jim lay there silently, staring up at the ceiling.
"When I was a kid, I had a skylight in my room. I miss that." He said, outta the blue. Bones quirked an eyebrow at him, though in the dark Jim couldn't see. "I used to look up at the stars before I went to sleep every night, and I would think about my dad. I used to pretend that somehow he wasn't dead, but that he had just been gone for a really long time, or kept prisoner by the Romulans, or something. And the second he came back home, everything would be okay. I imagined the sense of righteous anger I'd feel as I watched him smash in my Stepdad's face. I imagined him telling Winona off for failing at being a Mom. I'd imagine him giving Sam a hug, and making him happy again. And he'd be so happy to see me, and he'd be so angry at what Frank had done..." Jim trailed off with a deep sigh. Bones tried to see his face in the dark, but couldn't only see his shadow.
"What had Frank done to you Jim?" Bones asked, the courage hitting him for the first time. Jim's shadow shifted, and the blues of his eyes glinted in the slight light from the streetlamp outside. He shuddered a deep breath.
"He used to beat me. Almost every day. When I was little Sam got most of the beatings, and he tried to protect me, but he didn't know what else Frank was doing to me. He thought if he left, Frank would keep leaving me alone, and I'd be fine. He knew I got bullied at school, but he figured I'd grow out of it. I mean, I guess that's what he thought. He didn't say a whole lot before he left". Jim's breath had gotten slower, like he was sleepier, but he kept going. Bones held his breath, not wanting to draw Jim out of the first explanation of his past he'd ever offered. "Sam didn't know that Frank really did like me better though. He didn't just ignore me 'cause I was quiet, but he really liked me. He used to pull me next to him when Sam was gone and tell me how good I was, and he'd 'reward me', or at least that's what he called it. I hated it. I wanted to kill him, but I guess they were both right. I guess I really was just too good to commit murder. So I started acting out at school, and that's when the beatings started. And that's when I started really having all those fantasies about my dad coming back to save me." Jim cut himself off there, turning around to face the wall. "last time I got really freaked out, after my first asshole roommate and his buddies taped me to the flagpole of all the fucking cliché things, I tried to imagine my dad, but I got pissed when I did. I thought of how many times I imagined him saving me, and how it never happened. And suddenly you appeared outta nowhere, being all cranky and hollering at me like it was my fault for getting tied there in the first place. It was the first time somebody ever saved me." Jim let out a breath, like he was embarrassed. Bones sat up in his bed slowly, and took a deep breath, thinking over everything Jim had said. He got up, and walked over to Jim's side of the room, sitting next to him, before laying his head back down onto Jim's pillow. Jim jerked to the side, spinning his head around to look at Bones warily. Bones just patted Jim on the hand before squeezing and not letting go. After a moment, Jim seemed to relax, and he squeezed Bones hand back. The two continued lying there through the night, feeling safe from the nightmares, knowing the other would always be there to fend them away.