A/N: After dinking around, Spock POV seemed to fit here. Thank you bmars.312010, Constance Truggle, seacat03, foxeeflame, RachelVille, zeynel, GabrielsDoubt, K Ernst, MSU82, and Sapere for reviewing. Sapere, login so I can reply! :) I had no idea that Sophie's Choice was slang for a no win scenario. I had named her after a therapy horse I like.
Stranded
"Jim? When was the last time you've eaten?" Hoshi stood with her hands on her hips, frowning at a pale, faint Jim. For the past week, she'd been working on modifying a comm in hopes of breaking through the atmosphere. Jim split his time with assisting her and helping with the rations, spending less time with his other friends. Kodo's aides had determined that was their best contribution to the situation. "You've been giving me your rations, haven't you? There always seems to be more in my refrigerator than what I left."
Jim stared at her, and then shrugged. He'd been caught.
"Why?" she pressed.
"You need it more than I do. Besides, I'm going to be leaving anytime now. I'll be fine." No one had mentioned a ship coming, but his mom was legally bound to give him up, so there had to be one.
"Leaving? Where?"
"I have to get back to my dad. It's his turn to have me. So there must be a ship coming to get me." Even as he said it, his heart sank at the look on her face.
"Jim, there's no ship coming. It's rare that one does. The one you came on only stopped because they were dropping off Starfleet personnel. That's why it's so important that I find a way to punch a hole in this atmosphere. There's no other way to ask for help!"
"What? I'm stuck here?" asked Jim, fighting panic. Until now, he'd been able to keep his cool because he thought he was leaving soon. Was he stranded here? He hugged himself, curling inwards.
"Hey, it's going to be okay," she tried to assure him. "I'll keep trying. If I can survive the Xindi, we can get through this."
"I have to get back to my dad," Jim burst out. "He wouldn't want me here. He doesn't like Kodos, and he doesn't even know I'm here. He won't know where to find me."
"Your Vulcan father?" asked Hoshi. Maybe if she asked him factual questions, he would calm down. She'd seen T'Pol employ that method many times.
"Yeah. I really, really miss him," said Jim.
"I know how that is. Most of the Enterprise crew is dead, except for Admiral Archer. And T'Pol. She'll talk to me, if I want, but she isn't into the warm fuzzy friendship thing." She paused. "You say your father doesn't like Kodos?"
"He doesn't think he's a good leader," said Jim. His mind felt sluggish from lack of food. It was hard to think of the exact words.
"Well, Vulcans don't form those kinds of opinions without logic and hard evidence," commented Hoshi. "We'll have to keep an eye out." She paused. He still looked freaked out, but she thought he would be okay. Not that she could blame him. "In the meantime, eat your own rations. I'll be fine."
"Ok. I should get back to my house. Do you need anything?" asked Jim. He was thinking it was time to confront his mother, as uneasy as that made him. What was she thinking? Could Hoshi be wrong? He didn't think so, but a small part of him stubbornly hung on to hope. Maybe it was a Starfleet only ship.
"No, I'm good."
Jim left for Westland Row, fists clenched unconsciously, his breathing uneven. When he got home, he'd have a bite to eat. Then he would ask his mom the questions he should have asked from the first. Had even the little faith he'd had in her been too much?
He found her sitting at the island in the kitchen. All Starfleet personnel had been forced to work less to keep up their strength, so she was there more often than not. Jim grabbed a peach from the refrigerator and started eating. He eyed his mother, trying to gauge her mood. It'd gotten harder lately. Cohabiting with her felt like walking on eggshells. With Frank, he'd been the one to watch out for, with Winona just allowing it. Now, her moods swung from almost pleasant, to angry and demanding in a heartbeat. He sure missed Spock's even keel. "My two weeks are up," he started. "A ship's going to pick me up, right?" Please, let Hoshi be wrong.
"Not today, Jimmy," she said tiredly, her head resting on one hand.
Jim's throat tightened. What? "What do you mean, a ship isn't coming for me? It's Spock's turn!" Panicked adrenaline surged through him as the last of his hope died.
"A ship will come sooner or later," said Winona impatiently. "What's the big deal? You have the summer off. You have your horse. You're living on a different planet. Aren't you happy?"
"Mom, there is a famine going on. And besides, didn't you make a legal agreement to share me with Spock?"
"We'll get it under control," said Winona, her temper flaring, a slightly crazed look creeping in her eyes. "You're never happy! I've done more than that Vulcan has ever done for you. Did he get you a horse? Did he let you off planet?"
She didn't get it. Jim didn't think she ever would. His stomach sank. After all that had happened between them, he thought it was impossible to still feel even more betrayed by his mother. He was wrong.
"Answer me! Can't you see you're better off without him?"
"No!" ground out Jim, furious. "You lied to me. Spock would never do that." That was but the tip of the iceberg, but he was too weak to summon more arguments. His head spun dizzily.
"I didn't lie to you! You never said anything. I thought you were happy. You should be."
"Well, I'm not." He fought back tears. Spock.
"We're a family. Spock's not even the same species! Vulcans don't have emotions. How can he possibly be a good parent for a human? He doesn't even understand the human concept of family!"
"Spock does too have emotions! He'll be looking for me," said Jim, projecting more certainty than he felt. Sure, he'd make some inquiries, but how far would Spock really go? Would he just leave it up to Starfleet to find him? He sucked his breath in fearfully. Who knew how long that would take! The famine could get even worse.
"We'll see," she said, calming slightly. It was obvious she thought she'd won the argument. "Ed Molson should be here soon. Why don't you go out and wait for him?"
"Fine," Jim huffed angrily. Ed was their hay delivery man. So far, their hay supply had held out better than the food supply. Since hay didn't do well when wet, precautions had been made to keep it sequestered from the very beginning. This was a relief; at least Sophie didn't have to suffer. He stormed outside, pumped with adrenaline, and went to the tack shed. He picked up her new halter monogrammed with her full name, "Sophie's Choice," and set out to catch her.
She met him at the gate, which never failed to make him smile. She was a very sweet, willing, eager to please mare. Maybe the only living being on this planet that was truly on his side. Somehow, he'd get her away from here, even if it meant giving her away. She deserved better. He tied her to the fence. Ed would need to walk through the pasture to deliver the hay to the shed. He wished he could give her a treat, an apple or something, but they didn't have those here.
Minutes later, the telltale clip clop and rumblings of the horse drawn hay wagon reached his ears. Jim ran out to open the hay shed doors for their weekly delivery. He always waited until the last second to do that because of how often it rained. No doubt about it, horses were a lot of work. He personally wouldn't trade it for anything though.
"Hi, Ed," called Jim when the wagon came to a stop. He liked him; he'd insisted that Jim could use his first name.
"Hey, Jimmy." He didn't smile, and Jim's face fell. What was going on? "I'm afraid I've got some bad news. Somehow, the fungus got into the hay storage. We've all been very careful; I don't know how it happened." Ed raked his hand through his hair in frustration. "As we've seen everywhere, it spreads very rapidly. We've transferred what good hay we have to one of the new greenhouses, but the overall supply has been severely depleted."
"You mean…" Jim started, horrified. Just when he thought things couldn't get worse. He'd thought Sophie was safe, and had taken comfort in that.
"I mean, we've started rationing the hay. You've been giving her about six large flakes a day, right? Better make it three now. I know that isn't much. You'll have to make sure she has plenty of water."
Three flakes of hay was only enough to feed a miniature pony, not a full size horse like Sophie. "She'll starve," said Jim, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. With everything bad that had happened in his life, he usually wasn't much of a crier. But the physical stress his body was going through was taking its toll. He worked to control his breathing. It wasn't like he hadn't been starved before, but never for this long. He'd really thought those days were behind him. God, he wished Spock was here.
"I know," said Ed, distraught. "What makes it worse is my horses will get to the point where they're not strong enough to pull the delivery wagon anymore. I'm trying to deliver as much as I can now before that happens. I hate to say it, but you should know that there might not be much more coming. I'm really sorry, kid. There's nothing I can do," said Ed, looking close to tears himself. He loved his horses as much as Jim did and would prefer to starve himself than see them suffer. But, it didn't work that way. "Letting them go won't help; that fungus is destroying everything. They'll just get sick from eating it, and die all the quicker."
With that, he jumped down from the wagon and transferred Sophie's allotment of hay into the shed. Jim was forced to sit down, shaking from grief and starvation. That peach hadn't been enough.
"I really am sorry, Jimmy," said Ed, laying a hand on his shoulder when he was done. "Maybe talk to the vet. See if she can't prescribe something to help with any pain Sophie will start to feel."
"Okay," said Jim. "Thanks."
"I've got to make my next delivery. You take care now."
Jim waved goodbye. Then he decided to tack up Sophie for one last ride. It sounded like she wouldn't be in any condition for it after this. He climbed on and set off down the road, keeping her at a walk. Technically, he was supposed to tell someone, or have someone go with him. With all the chaos, Winona had given up on the idea of having him properly supervised, and he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone anyway.
Sophie seemed to pick up on his somber mood, and kept the pace slow. It was raining again, but he barely noticed it anymore. As he passed several houses and made his way around the outskirts of town, he noticed that the colony was now starkly different from when he'd arrived. Less people were out and about; the few he saw, clearly had specific, urgent business to attend to, and paid him little mind. People moved slowly and lethargically. No one was smiling, and if they did, it was wan. It was just so quiet.
He wished fervently there was something more he could do, more than helping Hoshi, more than helping give out rations. If only he had a brilliant mind like Spock's, or experience like Hoshi's, maybe he could actually solve what was going on, instead of feeling so helpless.
But all he had was a vague, horrible foreboding that only seemed to increase whenever he saw Kodo's men whispering to each other. Something was going on with them that wasn't quite right. They'd begun reassigning housing, having the older and frailer people and those with children live in the city; while the stronger, healthier ones reassigned to further out. He understood their reasoning: the healthier ones would have an easier time of making the trip than the others, especially as things got worse, but some of the assignments didn't make sense to him. For instance, the Rileys had been assigned to be in town, yet, he and his mom weren't, and neither were the Leightons. Other than that, he hadn't been able to put his finger on why he felt this way, but he would certainly look for an opportunity to find out.
Jim lost track of time as he wandered around on Sophie, never wanting the ride to end, but taking it easy so she wouldn't burn calories. Would he ever ride her again? Would he ever ride again, period? What was going to happen to the colony if Hoshi didn't get a signal through? How would they survive? Would he have to put Sophie down? Jim skittered away from that thought. Someway, somehow, they had to hold out until help came.
Jim ended his ride reluctantly. He grabbed another peach from the fridge and decided to check on Hoshi. His mom, thankfully, wasn't home anymore.
On his way, he passed the cemetery. He hadn't paid it much mind before. The colony wasn't very old, so it only had a few plots. Now, however, he saw a bunch of men digging holes. It was a very muddy job. The men were filthy.
One of them noticed Jim's concerned glance. "We've had our first deaths from the plague," he explained. "Smith and Jensen. They were sick already. The lack of food was the last straw. We have a few more who aren't looking good either. Way things are looking, this will turn into a full time job. I know it's morbid, but that's life, son," he said apologetically.
"I'm sorry," said Jim, unsure of what else to say. He didn't think he could feel any worse.
"Go and have fun. While you can," he added.
Jim nodded and continued on his way. Darkly, he couldn't help but think – was that where he would end up, if help didn't come in time? As someone who also helped with the rations, he knew it wasn't looking good. Hoshi had to succeed. There was no other option.
"How's it going?" Jim asked Hoshi after he entered her assigned house in town (she'd given him a standing invitation since he'd started assisting her). She was stuck underneath a communications console she'd built herself, making modifications.
"Slow. I still have to build a feedback loop so I know that the signal is getting through. If it does, of course," she said irritably. They were all eating less than they were accustomed to; tempers were high.
Jim sat down, trying to hide how weak he felt. "Need anything?"
"I need it to stop raining. Not only is the cloud cover affecting the comm in a strange way, it is making my joints ache. Never get this old, Jim," she advised.
Obviously, there was nothing he could do about that. "Sorry," he shrugged. He hadn't thought much about it before, but he wondered if Spock had any old age problems. If he did, he didn't show it. Jim hugged himself. Would he ever see Spock again? Chances were slimming every day. Was that man at the cemetery right? Was this really going to end in tragedy? "A few people just died from the plague. I talked to someone working at the cemetery."
"Oh no. I knew they weren't doing well. Give their families my condolences. I can't stop what I'm doing until I succeed."
"Ok." All this talk of death made him think of his father – his birth father. What did he feel before he died? He wished he had even one memory of him. But his dad had never seen him either, except maybe with an ultrasound. Hoshi had known his mother, though. Had she known his father? He voiced this to her.
"As a married couple, they were always assigned to the same ship. So yes, I did talk to him from time to time. He was a great officer. A real professional. Bit of a joker, at times. And he looked a lot like you! I know he'd be proud of you. You're quite mature for your age." She paused. "Your mom seems different than what I remember from back then." Her tone suggested she thought she was treading on thin ice.
"She hasn't been easy to get along with," Jim admitted.
"How did you end up with a Vulcan as a father?"
Jim gave her a heavily edited and downplayed version of the events.
"Wow, kid. You've been through the ringer. Next time you see your dad, tell him I said hi," said Hoshi.
He wished he had her optimism.
That night, Jim again had the nightmare of finding Spock dead on the Bridge of the Enterprise. He'd been having it most nights, yet this one was more vivid and drawn out than the others. When he woke up, he couldn't control his shaking. "Spock," he whispered. "Dad." He pulled out his letter and read it over and over, but it barely helped. At night, alone in his bed, it was impossible to hide from the strength of his deepest fears. He was stuck here, with a mother he couldn't trust. No one else had any real tie to him or responsibility for him. Spock would probably leave it up to the authorities to find him, and who knows how long that would take. This famine was getting worse and worse. People were dying. Maybe he would too.
He was alone.
Spock had meditated more in the past few weeks than he had in the past few months.
Dropping Jim off hadn't been easy. Linking with him had helped, but not for long. It had faded rather quickly. Almost as if he'd left the planet. However, this bond was weaker than the one he'd created with Kirk Prime. It was difficult to speculate how it would mature. He could not say for sure what the dimming indicated. He meditated on it and did his best to strengthen the connection.
A few days later, Gary had commed, stating that Jim hadn't contacted him lately. Spock told him to bring his concerns to McCoy. The doctor had called back the next day, saying that he hadn't been able to raise either Jim or Winona on the comms. This supported Spock's theory that Jim was off planet. Still, it was strange that he hadn't contacted anyone before they left. Perhaps Winona had taken his comm away from him. She seemed emotionally unstable.
It also could mean nothing of the sort. There was little he could do during the two weeks Winona was designated. Unanswered comms and faded bondlinks were not enough evidence for the authorities to investigate. He had to wait until the two weeks were up. He meditated even more to control his increasing anxiety and tried to concentrate on his projects. On the last day, he stopped by Winona's and ascertained that they weren't there, and hadn't been for some time.
Now the two weeks were over, and he'd never been less impressed with Starfleet's protocols.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Spock. But we always give a three day grace period for a parent to return the kid when they've got them for a week or more. We've had too many cases where they went off planet, then, through no fault of their own, got delayed in returning."
"Do you not restrict them from leaving the planet?" asked Spock. He'd made the assumption that they did. He really should have looked into this, but it had never occurred to him during the custody hearings that Winona would leave Iowa, much less Earth, based on her previous behavior. A mistake he would not be repeating.
"Only if they have them for less than a week."
"She did not tell me where they were going, or attempt to make arrangements for Jim's return. Can you tell me where she planned on going on assignment?" It looked like he would have to take matters into his own hands. That would be the place to start looking.
"No, I'm afraid that's classified, and we don't have grounds to release it. Not until after the grace period, and then you need to submit an appeal and official inquiry."
"Very well," said Spock, though it wasn't. "I will speak to you in three days' time." He cut the call. It was possible that they were, as the person said, unavoidably delayed. Yet, during his deepest meditation, the little he picked up from the link was disquieting. He'd gotten spikes of strong anxiety. Worse, a sense of ill health. It was vague, weak, but there.
Starfleet wouldn't help him. Perhaps it was time to use his personal connections to make some headway. He opened a connection to the Vulcan Embassy, frowning in determination.
"This is Solkar, Ambassador Sarek's aide. How may I assist you?"
"Solkar, I am called Selek. I wish to speak to Sarek."
Solkar raised an eyebrow. This Selek must be on familial level terms with the Ambassador to speak of him without his title. "Very well. I will pass on your message. He is currently in negotiations with the Bolians. I expect he will be available later today."
"I will be expecting him." With a polite nod, Spock cut the call. Whether Sarek could override the grace period, he didn't know. It was his best chance at it. As much as he wanted to go tearing through the galaxy to find Jim, he had to have at least some kind of lead first. Otherwise, it would be next to impossible to find him, even with the link.
Nevertheless, lead or no lead, he would find Jim soon, one way or another.
