It all starts with the smallest of scribbles.
When his dad brought up the idea of Tarsus IV, it sounded like a dream come true. Not having to visit his mom and her stupid boyfriend every weekend sounded great, Sam wouldn't be there to lock him out of the house all the time, and his public school was mind numbling boring. Tarsus offered lots of opportunities he simply didn't have at home. His dad was happy to pay for the small fee for applying, as well for the entrance exam. Waiting for the results had been gut wrenching. But seeing George Kirk's face when he passed with flying colors made it all worth it.
He'd been… a little nervous on the way here. He'd never been away from the Earth like this before. But Jimmy was eleven then, and he's twelve now so he's obviously way more grown up. Tarsus IV is pretty mundane. His roommate's kind of an ass, but oh well, he'll get a new one next year. The schoolwork is fun, and way more interesting than anything on Earth. His teachers are pretty chill, and they have this RA guy for every dorm that makes sure they shower and stuff but otherwise him and all the other kids are on their own. It's awesome.
Things are great, Dad, he writes in his weekly email to his father. My roommate's still weird but at least he picked up his dirty socks finally. School's been going good. I got an A on my science project! There's no way I'm going into the science track when I join Starfleet though, even though Mr. Allens said I should think about it. It's cool but I want to be the one that goes on all the adventures. Anyway, I know you asked about the weird stuff I said last time. Governor Kodos is supposed to make some kinda announcement this afternoon- probably about the weird white stuff on the crops. I hope it's enough to make the adults stop acting weird. See ya in a couple weeks for break.
He stops in his typing when his right wrist tingles. He flips it over, curiously.
Math test, tomorrow! Don't forget!
Huh, he didn't remember writing that. He must have been in a mood, because his handwriting looks… super different. Oh well. He'll think about this later. He has more homework to do.
He hits send.
An hour later, someone takes his PADD away. Takes everyone's PADD away. He never gets it back.
"- Your lives means slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore I have no alternative but to sentence you to death. Your execution is so ordered-"
His blood runs cold.
I have been informed by my mother that seeing your writing on my arm means that you are my soulmate. I did not expect to have one, seeing as that is a hu-
Wait, wait, wait! You can't start off like that out of nowhere! You gotta tell me your name first.
My apologies. My name is S'chn T'gai Spock. I must remark that you did not provide your name either.
Oh. Well, Spock, I'm Leonard McCoy.
He realizes what the writing on his arms means soon after, but he doesn't have time to think about it. As the words spiral across his skin, just like how he'd always read, the thoughts of soulmates fade with the sound of quiet sobs filling the air.
Only kids were small enough to fit in that small hole, and Jimmy wasn't the only one to have hidden in this small cave. He hadn't even thought, just grabbed the hand of the kid closest to him and ran. The screaming, the noises outside had all stopped now. There was only silence, which was somehow way more scary.
"It's all right, Kev," he shushes, hugging that small body closer.
"But my… my-"
Jimmy bites his lip so hard it bleeds, hand going to cover the other's mouth as he hears the chattering of angry adult voices nearby. The other kids have already gone quiet, wide eyes staring directly at him. Even with how dark it is in their small hiding place, the fear on each of their faces is clear as day. They're all younger than him, he notices. Every single one. His spine straightens.
"Don't worry," he says quietly when everything goes quiet. "I'll protect you. All of you."
In a split second, Jimmy became JT.
It itches, every time words sprawl across JT's too thin arms. They're arguing now, he thinks fondly, fingers tracing over the letters only he can see. It brings him some comfort. They do, even if they don't know he exists. Spock's articulate, neat writing. Leonard's messy cursive. Their familiar handwriting alone makes that heaviness in his chest feel a little lighter. His fingers itch to reply, to write out some smartass comment that would make at least one of them laugh, to watch the ink he writes fade into his arm and onto theirs like it does in the films.
You see, Spock, when a person feels strongly about something, they just do that.
I still do not "see" what you wish for me to understand, Leonard. It is all incredibly illogical.
Well, you're illogical.
I assure you, I am certainly not.
But what was even the point?
He was a dead man (kid) walking. What was the point in telling them his existence if he was never going to meet them in the first place? A triplet of soulmates was so rare. Maybe this was why. Maybe when one person was destined to die, whoever decided these things made sure that at least the two remaining would have at least one. That... made sense. They'd be okay with just each other. So, he wouldn't cause any issues. He'd let things pan out as they were meant to.
Oh well, he thinks, eyes moving over the hallowed, sleeping faces of His Kids. They're safe, away from this. He can't be the kind of soulmate they'd want anyway. He's JT. His job is to make sure His Kids survive by any means necessary, and that's it.
Maybe he'd always been destined to die.
You are not meant for soulmates, JT thinks bitterly as he successfully pushes down the nausea again, breathing hard as he leans against the half destroyed wall. The soldiers walking by don't even look at him. A month ago, they would have killed him on sight. But of course things are different now that he's a plaything. Kodos' plaything, specifically.
His legs are sore and shaking but all of him is sore. He tries not to think about what exactly hurts. Then he'd have to think about why he is, again, and he doesn't want to think about those hands on him again, Good boy, James-
He loses, this time, retching up bile and nothing else.
Once he's done, he wipes off his face with his sleeve and forces his feet to move. Left, right, left, because it's something to focus on and if he stops for even a moment he's terrified he won't be able to start again. Refusing to lay down and die is more than stubbornness; it's duty. He is not living for himself.
Tommy frowns at him when he returns. He was the oldest one left (only a year younger than JT, and the de facto leader when JT was gone), and thus the one that understood the most. His eyes linger on the hand shaped bruises peeking out from JT's shorts. He knows better than to comment, however, not when Kev's eyes light up at the sight of his favorite person.
"JT!" he cries in delight, running over and throwing his small arms around the older's waist. JT barely suppresses a wince.
"Hey, kiddo." How hoarse his voice came out surprises him, and Tommy looks away with a grimace. He sometimes really wished he wasn't as perceptive as he was.
"Did'ja bring back anything?" Kev asks as he pulls back with a wide smile.
JT forces a smile as he brings out three cans of vegetables out of his worn backpack, courtesy of his… 'trade' with Kodos.. Morgan, Eliza, and Danny, who'd previously been drawing shapes in the dirt with sticks together, perk up and walk over. Mary, (the second oldest besides Tommy) nudges her sleeping twin sister, Clara. Jessie, who was trying to patch a hole in too small shoes, immediately put down everything and ran over. Their eyes all light up at the sight of food. JT is filled with contentment at just that fact. It's rare, these days, to see anything other than that dead-eyed look on most of them. Kev was the only one these days that still smiled like a kid his age was supposed to.
(No one had the heart to tell him what had really happened to his parents, yet, though)
Splitting three cans between all nine of them was going to be a stretch. He really wished he'd gotten at least one more can. Nevertheless, he divides the green beans as equally as he can, only giving himself a serving when Tommy glares at him for trying not to and Kev flashes his puppy eyes. He makes sure it's the smallest one.
His eyes flicker towards his arm, and his stomach lurches uncomfortably when he realizes Spock and Leonard are talking about dinner. It's best he just tries to forget them. He knows that, has told himself that a million times, and yet-
Tommy puts a hand on his shoulder, and he flinches.
"Thank you," Tommy says softly, so softly that only JT can hear him. He knows he's not just talking about the food.
JT made the mistake of vomiting in front of Kodos, and like always, the man's displeasure always came in the form of a whip.
He offered to take watch, because he hurts too much to sleep anyway. It wasn't his turn but the others don't dare disagree when he's so irritable. He rubs his raw wrists (an angry red from being chained up, threatening to bruise) as he stares out into the night sky. Strange. It's the same sky that he used to look out from his dorm window in awe. So like the one he'd known from Earth, but different.
This time, they seem alien. They can't be the same stars he'd seen only a few months ago. That was a different world. That kid he used to be is dead and gone. After all, Kodos sarcastically wished him a happy birthday last week. He's thirteen now. He knows better, and wishes he didn't have to be so grown up.
He wished at least his... Mm. No, the soulmates were awake. Watching their conversation right now would at least make the time pass faster, and he wouldn't be so stuck in his own head. Not a great place to be, these days. He traces Leonard's good night with a sigh. Missing them seems stupid, since he hasn't written to them and told himself he never would, but he can't mistake that feeling in his chest. It's nothing like the gaping wound of hurt that surrounds him whenever he thinks about his dad, but it's still there nonetheless and it's terrifying.
His thoughts are interrupted by footsteps.
"Hey, JT," Thomas greets as he walks out of their small house they'd quietly taken over a week after the genocide began. JT wasn't sure when he'd stopped being Tommy and started being Thomas, but it was surely as quick as when Jimmy became JT. "I finally got Kev asleep. It's always hard when you're not there."
"I'm doing watch." JT shakes his head. "I'm only like, ten feet away."
Thomas snorted. "I know. Doesn't matter much with a little kid, though." He pauses suddenly. It's only then JT looks at him, and sees the eyes on his arm, where JT's hand still was. Only you could see the letters left by your soulmate, but a chill still goes down his back as his hand jerks away.
"...I started seeing mine too," the younger admitted quietly. "Her name's Martha. Haven't had the heart to write back though. It's.. not fair. I mean, the little kids don't really understand, but you and I know we're probably not-"
JT's throat closes up. He suddenly stands, despite the pain, despite the dizziness, and feels the urge to yell, of course we're going to live, dumbass, but… but Thomas is right. Every day, it gets worse. Everyday he loses a little more weight and a little more hope. They're all skeletal now, every single one of them. They can't live like this much longer.
He doesn't speak for a minute. Another.
"...I have two," he finally says, pointedly looking anywhere but Thomas' shocked expression. "They'll… have each other, and won't ever know there was a third." He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
He wanted the stars to swallow him whole, to leave this planet behind and never set foot on one again. Truth be told, this was a nightmare that would likely never end, and his heart was almost too bruised to dream anymore. In less than a moment it slips away, and he abruptly sits. A lightning strike of pain shoots up his spine and the wetness he suddenly feels is probably his wounds reopening, but the pain relaxes his shoulders. He needs something, anything to focus on. His fingers dig into the barren, dry earth, in something almost frustration but not quite.
"You ever just… look at the stars sometimes?" His voice leaves his throat without permission. It's a stupid question, he scolds himself. No one would have left Earth and come to this hellhole without-
"Yeah." Thomas didn't seem to mind. "I used to all the time, when I lived on Earth. I always really liked space. That's why I begged my mom to let me come here. It's always just been me and her, you know. My dad died when I was a baby. She.. she didn't want me to go but-" He stops suddenly, shoulders tensing and eyes suspiciously wet.
"It's okay." JT puts his hand on the other's shoulder. "I miss my family too." There's no promises of 'you'll see her again soon' or any of the little comforting lies they gave Kev to keep him happy. JT respected him too much for that. Instead, they just sat there, in silence, until the sun finally peaked over the horizon.
It's the closest thing to peace either of them have had in a long time. Maybe the last, they both think.
Once it does, and they both stand to go back inside, JT pauses for a second and grabs Thomas' arm to stop him.
"If anything happens to me, you're in charge." It's quiet, and without room for disagreement. Yes, it's true Thomas leads and takes care of the others when JT is gone, but this is different. The heavy silence hanging in the air confirms they both know it. He half expects Thomas to try and argue, or at least exclaim that nothing is going to happen to you- But Thomas doesn't. He just nods.
It's as simple as that.
JT knows everything is going to fall apart about three days before it does.
There's little signs, now that JT has learned to be observant. The amount of soldiers patrolling around Kodos' mansion increases, and they're starting to go further out than ever before. Far enough to make JT nervous. He already has his mind made up but he talks to Thomas anyway. He agrees that they need a new hideout. It will take JT longer to come back, but… their safety is more important than anything else.
However, moving everyone is not an easy task.
Most of them are under the age of ten, and especially after months of malnourishment, are simply not built for a long journey. But there isn't any choice. JT probably snaps a little more than the Kids deserve when they whine and he has to carry Kev the last half of the way, but they manage to arrive at the isolated cave JT picked out. He hands out the last scraps of food they have left, and it isn't long before most of them fall asleep in a large pile. It was just what he was waiting for.
"Take care of them," he tells Thomas as he leaves before they wake.
Something within JT shifts when Kodos' guards corner him, and for a little while he doesn't even realize what has changed. Or possibly, more likely, it just doesn't matter at this point.
"Cute. You really thought I was just going to let you come and go as you pleased forever." Kodos chuckles deep in his throat as his hand lightly runs over JT's bare, scarred back. "You're a possession, James." He then grabbed both thin wrists and slammed him against the headboard. It's something he's done before, many times.
This time JT doesn't even blink. He isn't surprised when those hands tighten, and only stop when a ghost of a grimace flutters over his face. But he doesn't dare to think the pain will end there. It never does, anymore.
"No one is ever going to want someone as broken as you," Kodos hisses. "You were made just to be fucked and played with."
It just solidifies what he's been telling himself all along. His soulmates are better off without him. It isn't new information. His blank expression does not change, and Kodos goes quiet suddenly as if this surprises him. And, with something almost amusement, JT realizes it does.
"I don't care," he admits, closing his eyes with a bitter grin. "...anymore."
He almost laughs at the rage in Kodos' features, and actually does a week later, the moment he realizes that being chained outside for twelve hours probably means he's been left for dead. The dried blood on his back itches but that's normal these days, and he can't feel the hands bound above him any more. He's too used to sunburns to care about the burning across his shoulders. So it's numb. Everything. It fits, though, since his emotions had ebbed away the moment he'd said goodbye to Thomas.
Then... familiar tingling across his arms, and only then, when that sets in, do tears finally well up in his closed eyes and flow down his hollow cheeks. I want to talk to you, both of you. It's a truth he's known since the day he realized it was his soulmates' handwriting he was reading. I want to annoy Leonard because I'm bored and I want to joke with Spock even though he'll pretend he's above humor and I want to tell you how much you both mean to me.
It's too late now, isn't it? The fact that they'll never know they'd lost anything in the first place is probably the worst thought of all. Despair he'd been fighting since Tarsus first went to hell, the despair he'd been pushing down since the first of his kids died, the despair he'd been hiding from even himself finally spilled over, and JT didn't fight it anymore.
He welcomed the darkness that came next, fully aware it would be the last time.
It takes a week before JT accepts he's actually in the hospital, far away from Tarsus IV. He has to pinch himself nearly every day to confirm this isn't just a hallucination, or a dream he's just going to wake up from. After that, it's just boring. He can't see his dad yet so there's not really much to look forward to, and all the medical personnel are either pushy or have way too much pity in their eyes. At least he's sharing a room with Thomas. JT just wishes Kodos hadn't found him days before they'd all been rescued. Unlike JT, he'd never be able to hide what Kodos had done to him.
"You know," Thomas tells him one morning, his remaining eye peeking out from the bandages covering his face, "I started writing back to Martha. She's really sweet. I didn't tell her the real reason I took so long to write back, but.. She doesn't seem to care too much."
JT just shrugs, grimacing down at the bland applesauce that was forced upon him. "I don't know, Thomas."
He just smiles and holds out a pen. "Think about it."
Even if just to humor him, JT... no, Jim takes it and considers it over the next week. The doctors and nurses don't ask him about the pen, but smile knowingly when they happen to notice it. He moves it constantly between his fingers, nervously. Thomas doesn't push it after that first day, but Jim still finds he can think of nothing else, anyway.
What would he even say? There was really no getting over the awkwardness of having just read the messages for almost a year and never replying himself. Besides, they'd obviously grown close, and three is a crowd, right? He wouldn't blame them if they weren't even interested in another soulmate. How would he even do this? There was really no right way to introduce himself after all this time. The thoughts were almost crippling.
It's an impulsive choice, in the end.
Jim has seen this old argument between them a million times. Spock should really know better than to bring up a logic versus emotion debate, but he honestly suspects at this point that he's just bored (despite the fact he'd never admit it) and knows that Leonard will always rise up to it (which he predictably, hilariously, does). To anyone else, the exchanges might seem heated, but he can see the lightness of their strokes. It's playful, lighthearted bickering if nothing else. And Jim is also bored, coincidentally. Thomas is off somewhere else getting some sort of treatment and a PADD only brings a certain amount of entertainment. The words across his arm are far more interesting. What happens next is instinctive, the way he picks up the pen from its place on the bed and brings it to his forearm. It feels right.
Leonard, you must be rational. If it were I who were in the situation-
Spock, I highly doubt you would ever be in a situation where you were stepped on by a cow. They're not that bad, really. Nothing to be scared of.
One still hurt you.
And I'm telling you it's nothing to worry about.
Sorry, I think Spock is right, he writes simply, and for the first time in a long time, he smiles.