Jim rolled over.

He read the clock – 0300 – and groaned. Only thirteen more hours until Beta shift. Why, why, why had he given himself a later shift today? Sure, it had been set long before his mother came aboard – shifts were switched once every two weeks, for a little excitement – but he was the captain and could've changed it. He didn't want to have free time right now. Two hours, and all he'd done was toss and turn during what felt like an eternity.

Bones wouldn't be awake. He'd made that quite clear when he dropped Jim off. Would Spock be awake? They could play chess. Or was that too needy? Spock and Uhura probably had enough problems without Jim dragging him away all the time, Spock being Vulcan and all. Carol? No. He'd have to explain everything, and he kind of didn't want to do that right now.

His shoulder throbbed. A painkiller sat on his nightstand. Jim contemplated it, wondering if he should use it. It might help him sleep. But sleeping brought nightmares. And nightmares brought panic attacks.

"Computer, where is Commander Spock?"

"Commander Spock is on the observation deck."

"And Lieutenant Uhura?"

"Lieutenant Uhura is in Commander Spock's quarters."

So, something was bugging Spock, too – otherwise, he would be with her. They still technically had separate quarters, but she spent most of her nights in his quarters, and her stuff had gradually migrated there over the years. But if Spock had planned to spend the night away from his quarters, she would be in her own quarters. So, Spock probably hadn't planned his trip to the observation lounge.

Screw it.

Jim hauled himself out of bed, pulling on a jacket and making an unplanned trip of his own. He brushed against the walls, taking comfort from his ship's quiet vibrations. The walk was both long and short, and suddenly he was in the same room as a crying Vulcan.

Well, not really full-blown crying, as humans did – but there was definitely a tear track on his left cheek. Like that day in front of the warp core. That day they never really talked about, because some things didn't need words. It had happened, it had changed them, and that was all they needed.

He tried to back out, but Spock had already noticed him. "Jim," he muttered, hurriedly wiping his cheek dry, stowing something in the pocket of his hoodie with his other hand.

"I can go-"

Spock shook his head. "It was illogical to think I would not eventually be found in a public room. I just did not want to disturb Nyota."

"So she thinks you're sleeping?"

Spock looked almost sheepish. "Perhaps."

Jim chuckled. "We're really rubbing off on you. You need to visit New Vulcan."

He hadn't meant anything by it, but Spock's eyes still shifted away at the reminder. He might even have flinched a bit this time.

"Wait, is that why you're here?"

"Why are you here?" Spock evaded.

Jim barely aborted a shrug in time. "Couldn't sleep, I guess."

"Or you did not want to?"

"Maybe."

Spock paused, then walked to a cabinet and pulled out a 3D chess set. Wordlessly, Jim helped him set it up, and they settled on the floor to play. For them, it was a classic waiting game – who would talk first? And in the meantime, a logical game to help clear their thoughts.

After half an hour, Jim plucked up the courage to talk. "I just don't want another panic attack."

Spock glanced at him, even as he focused on countering Jim's latest move. "Understandable. However, you need to sleep."

"Deceiving your fiancé isn't very good for your health, either," Jim countered, narrowing his eyes as Spock made his move.

"I may have already ruined our dinner yesterday. I did not wish to disturb her sleep tonight."

A grin fought to show on Jim's face, but he squashed it – Spock was hilariously terrified of Uhura at times, just like a lot of humans. It seemed to be a species-spanning, universal constant.

"How'd you ruin dinner? She didn't seem mad at you."

Spock focused intently on the board. "It was not something she would be irritated by."

Jim suddenly remembered the timing of their dinner. "You couldn't stop thinking about your mother, could you?"

Spock took a breath to say something, but didn't. A moment later, he simply said "Correct."

"Is she why you were crying?"

Spock tensed, and silence reined again. Then, abruptly, he pulled out whatever he'd put in his pocket and slid it across the floor to Jim.

It was a paper picture of a young, grinning woman and a baby. The woman wasn't familiar, but her eyes were identical to Spock's – his mother. The baby had tiny, pointed ears – and wore a cat costume onesie.

"Spock, is this-"

"Me and my mother. She was on Earth, taking me to meet my maternal grandparents for the first time. She carried this picture every day, until I left for Starfleet, at which point she gave it to me. Even my father does not know it exists."

Jim understood this was very serious and personal, but those ears. "Tell me, if you and Uhura ever have a kid, her ears will look like this."

Spock shot him a deadpan glance.

"Sorry. I just- you made a very cute cat," Jim mumbled, handing the picture back. "So Uhura getting you to dress up reminded you of her, and you didn't want to bug her about your mother again?"

Spock nodded.

"You know she wouldn't mind, right? Especially if she gets to see that picture for the first time. I mean, it wouldn't hurt anyone."

"Just as it would not hurt you to talk to your mother again."

Jim sighed. "Point taken," he conceded, suddenly too tired to argue. Silence, comfortable this time, no more words needed now, took over. They played their game of chess, content once again.

-LLAP-

The door chime rang.

Leonard read the clock – 0700 – and groaned. He had Beta shift today, which meant he should've been able to sleep in since it started at 1600 hours, which he needed after getting back to his quarters after 0100 thanks to the party. Jim had been more than reluctant to go to bed – to be alone. Leonard understood this, but sometimes, a bit of alone time was necessary.

The door chimed again.

"What?" he demanded.

"It's Winona."

Winona? "What are you doing here?"

"I… I want to talk. About Jim."

Leonard sighed. "All right. Gimme a minute – some of us sleep early in the morning."

She didn't respond, but he thought he heard a laugh. He hurriedly threw on a clean uniform and brushed his teeth, fingercombing his hair as he stepped outside. She opened her mouth to talk, but he forestalled her with a raised hand, saying "Coffee first."

Winona followed obligingly as he headed for the mess hall, which was blessedly empty – most people were either asleep or getting ready for Alpha shift, while the unlucky Gamma shift members were stuck at their stations until 0800. Winona waited patiently while he replicated and drowned two cups of coffee, finally turning to her as he held a third.

"Sorry. I didn't fall asleep until after 0100, and things could've gotten ugly. Now, what about Jim?"

"I want to talk to him again."

"No," Leonard said instantly.

"Doctor-"

"He's not ready, not today. Doctor's orders."

Winona's gaze turned pleading, and damn, it looked like Jim's puppy eyes. "Please."

Leonard shook his head. "He needs a normal-ish day. It's been two months since his last panic attack, and since you've come aboard, he's had two very severe ones. I know you mean well, and I know Spock actually gave you decent advice last night, but he's not ready. It would only push him further away."

Winona bit her lip. "Fine. I'll wait."

She turned and walked towards the door, leaving Leonard astonished. "What, that's it? You won't even fight for your son?"

She looked back at him. "What do you want me to do? You said no."

Leonard took a step closer, setting his coffee down. "I want you to act like a parent."

"I am," she snapped.

"No, you're not. You're acting like a friend, and not even a close one."

"What would you know?"

"Because I have a daughter," Leonard shot back. "A daughter I haven't seen in six years."

"Wow, you're such a great father," Winona scoffed.

"Her mother divorced me, and I got absolute squat in the alimony. But that didn't stop me from fighting tooth-and-nail, even though it's gotten me nowhere. You chose to leave Jim, and now you think it's going to be easy to just slip right back into his life?"

"Of course I don't-"

"Well, I haven't seen you doing much fighting. We tell you to back off, and you do almost instantly."

Winona stepped towards him, her fists beginning to clench – in irritation, not anger. "You and Commander Spock haven't given me much of a choice."

"That's on purpose. You don't deserve to be in Jim's life if you won't fight for your place in it."

"He hasn't done much fighting to be in mine, either!"

"Give him something worth fighting for, and he'll fight like hell."

"I am his mother."

"By blood. I saw you guys yesterday – it's clear you both want to reunite. For a moment, both of you dropped your walls, but they sprung right back up. I get it – God knows I've got my own walls."

"But?"

"But you didn't fight. You let him pull away, you let me take him."

"It's what he wanted, though."

"I know. But being a parent isn't about caving to your kid's every want – it's about taking care of their best interests, helping them grow into the best person they can be. You can't do that if you give in when, on the surface, he wants you to go away – it only deepens his belief that you don't want him. Which means you need to fight him, me, Spock, and maybe even yourself, because that's how Jim Kirk knows you want to be close to him."

Winona groaned.

"This was never going to be easy, on any of us. Spock and I, we don't want to see Jim hurting, but you're tearing open old, partially-healed wounds. That's not necessarily bad – Jim's healed that way before. But if you don't figure this out in the next few days, he'll never heal, and he'll never let you try again. But Jim still isn't talking to you today, so take this opportunity to do some research – on the computer, talk to the crew, whatever – on what it means to be a parent and who Jim is. Am I understood?"

Winona hesitated, thoughts flickering through her eyes, before nodding. "All right."

"Good. Now, I'm going back to my quarters for some well-deserved rest. Or just to read a book."

He left Winona standing in the middle of the mess hall. If she was as similar to her son as Leonard thought, she would now be plotting and scheming – just as he wanted.

A/N: I'm apparently very productive when I should be asleep (and I also have no idea if rested-me will think this is any good or not, but sleepy-me is posting anyway - it worked for chapter one, right?). But who needs to be awake in school, anyway? Not like I pay attention anyway...