Chapter Ten

"Oh James..."

Looking out through bright blue eyes, twelve-year-old James Kirk watched as his mother fussed over the small gash on his leg that he had gotten that day. He had been proud of the cut that he brought home, feeling like that was a badge required for manhood. His mother, on the other hand, acted as if the gash made it so his leg had to be amputated.

"Mom, I'm fine!" whined James as he tried to brush his mother's touch away.

"You're not fine! You have a bleeding cut on your leg!"

Sighing, his mother turned to consult the first aid kit again. James' gaze turned to his mother's boyfriend then. He was currently lying across the couch with his mouth half open, clearly asleep. This man couldn't replace his father. He wasn't a hero. He was a couch potato with a convertible.

"Mom! I'm almost thirteen! A cut on my leg won't kill me," James remarked as he felt his mother's gentle touch brush under his right eye.

"You're always getting into scraps, James. Why can't you play nice?"

"Because everyone else is stupid," he said with a slight smile.

The smile, and the remark, didn't please his mother though. She puddled up slightly, sitting back on her haunches as she moved to train her eyes towards the ground. James felt guilt surge through him then. He always felt that way when he made his mother upset. Slipping down off the chair, he moved onto his knees on the floor in front of his mother, wrapping his arms about her.

"I'm sorry, Mom...I didn't mean to upset you...I'm just trying to do the right thing...I want to make my father proud..."

"Carl is proud of you..." she whispered as James shook his head. He wasn't talking about Carl, her current boyfriend. He was talking about his biological father, George Kirk.

"I wasn't talking about him..." He whispered softly as he hugged his mother gently on the floor while Carl continued snoring behind them, oblivious to the world.

James felt a tear drip down onto his cheek, falling free from his mother's eye. He moved to kiss her cheek then, trying to lift her spirits.

"I miss him..." she whispered. "George was...George was just like you..."

That caused a feeling of pride to swell within James' chest. It was nice to hear that he was a lot like the father that he admired and never met. Sitting back a bit, he moved a hand up to brush the stray tears off his mother's cheek.

"I am?" He asked as he kept up the action; dashing the tears out of existence.

"You are...You are looking more and more like him too. Just...I don't want to lose you too..." Her voice choked up then; cracking slightly as she vainly tried to stop crying. "I worry that if you keep making rash decisions in the future that nightmare will become reality..."

"Mom, I promise...You won't lose me."

He established eye contact as he spoke those words; locking his crystal blue ones on soft brown ones. When he saw her nod, he smiled softly and flicked his gaze towards Carl again with a small scowl.

"He will never replace my father...He's not a hero..."

Sniffling still as she was starting to recover, his mother swiveled slightly to look at the sleeping Carl on the couch.

"Be kind to him..."

"He doesn't do anything though," insisted James. "You work all the time, and he just sleeps."

"He says the job market is tight right now..."

"Mom, he's using your money to upkeep his car."

"He loves you though..."

"He told me to stop being a pest...told me to get lost..."

Sighing, his mother turned back to look at him, running a hand through his hair.

"I understand that no one will replace your biological father, but he's dead, James. I want you to have some sort of father figure in your life, and at least Carl is trying. He may not be doing well at it, but he's trying."

"He loves his car more than us, Mom. If something were to happen to his car, he would leave."

"James, just shush..."

In order to ensure that he remained silent, she leaned forward to softly kiss the top of his head. She slowly moved to stand up, walking towards the stove in order to start supper. James remained on the floor even after she had walked off, staring at the sleeping Carl on the couch. He reminded his mother of his real father. He couldn't get over the feeling of pride that that knowledge brought with it. Slowly standing up, he knew what he had to do. He had to be like his father. He had to protect this family, and that meant getting rid of Carl.

Making sure his mother was distracted with preparations for supper, he stole quietly into the room where Carl was sleeping. Standing over him, he slipped a hand forward to free the keys from his pocket. He did so gently so as not to wake him and then moved outside to where the white convertible sat in the driveway. A smile spread over his face then as he observed the vehicle, twirling the key ring on his finger.

"Time for a joyride," he remarked before moving to jump into the vehicle, starting it and flooring it into reverse out of the driveway.

As he squealed out of the driveway, seeing his mother appear on the porch out of the corner of his eye. He was just proving a point. He certainly hadn't meant to crash the convertible over a cliff or be brought home by the local law enforcement. He had proved his point though. Carl left promptly the next day and it didn't even break his mother's heart. She looked relieved even. James had protected his family just as his father had, and he was hoping that he always was able to make him proud.

Bones flew down the shaft, slamming into the metallic sides and vainly trying to claw at them to get a hold. At least he had sort of accomplished his mission. He had found Jim. He was alive for now at least, and as soon as he got out of this crazy shaft, he was determined to get to him so he could finally beam back to the Enterprise.

"OH COME ON!" shouted Bones as he tried to reach out for a stop then; his hand slipping free of the corner he had managed to hold on to for half a second.

Still flying backwards, Bones could feel the fan getting closer. As he continued to fly past the grates, he was relieved when the fan suddenly shut off. With an 'oof', he landed flat on his stomach, trying to recollect himself so he could make his next move. Before he had a chance to think much about what his next move would be, a squeak could be heard as a grate was removed.

"Please be Jim..." He whispered.

Just then, creature Jim appeared around the corner of the vent, softly letting out 'squee's as it got closer. Bones couldn't help but to roll his eyes at the reappearance of such an unhelpful creature.

"I'm going to have words with you later," he said softly before he felt a hand wrapped about his ankle, tugging him backwards.

"Jim, if that's you..." Bones dared to say before he got a growl in response. "Okay...Definitely not Jim."

Bones threw his hands out then for another hold as Spock suddenly started to talk in his ear.

"Doctor, what is going on?"

Turning his head sideways slightly in order to hit his com and activate it, he replied, "I'm sorta busy at the moment, Spock..."

"Have you found the Captain?"

"Not exactly..."

"What do you mean by saying that? Either you have found him or you haven't. There is no way to not have a definite answer to that inquiry."

"I don't have time to deal with this, man!" He shouted then.

Spock fell silent as Bones failed to hold on, dangling half in and half out of the grate. Bones screwed his eyes shut, certain that whoever had been tugging at him had captured him. That was when his ears registered the sounds of shouts and collapsing bodies below him. Trying to turn his head to be able to see, he saw the bodies of white suited men lying on the floor. As the noises all died away, he suddenly felt someone grab him by the waist and gently bring him down to the ground. Since he was back to and whoever had grabbed him had a white helmet of some sort over their face, Bones knew that he had to be prepared to defend himself. He turned to face the white suited person in front of his hands, bringing his fisted hands up and ignoring Spock's voice in his ear.

"Listen here. I'm a doctor which means I know exactly where to punch to ensure that you aren't moving anywhere fast anytime soon. I wouldn't be messing with me if I were you."

"I don't want any problems," replied the white suited person, reaching up to remove the helmet.

Bones' eyes widened when the helmet was removed, needing a minute to snap himself out of his shock. He knew this man. He had seen his picture before in Kirk's pod when he had gone in for a report.

"Doctor, what's going on? Are you alright?"

Reaching up to tap the com device in his ear, Bones replied, "I honestly don't know."

"Why are you saying that? Being cryptic is not the proper way to carry out this mission..."

"Spock," said Bones then with a sigh. "I've found a ghost."

"Paranormal beings do not exist, doctor. I assumed that you would know that best out of everyone since you are a doctor..."

"Spock...I have though. I've found Jim's father. He's alive, Spock. George Kirk is alive."