Age 11

"You know, if Spock were here, he'd say I was an irrational, illogical human being for taking on a mission like that. Sounds like fun." Jim Kirk, "Generations"

Jim stared at the keys in the ignition, his anger swirling like a growing, living thing in his gut.

He refused to turn around and watch Sam walk out of his life. He just refused to.

It wasn't fair! That Frank, who wasn't even their real father, and who was a total numb-nut on top of that, could be so evil as to chase his brother away, this time for good…. the suckiness that made up the Kirk household just seemed to grow by the minute!

Sam had always been there to protect him. It had been Jim and Sam against the world, or, more specifically, Jim and Sam against the tyrannical repression of their wicked stepfather.

It's not like their mother was around much to intervene on their behalf, she was an officer, she had to work and when she was home Frank acted as sweet as maple syrup atop a stack of fluffy, golden pancakes. Their mom had no clue that she had really married evil incarnate.

Only Jim and Sam knew Frank's true persona, a dictator who ran their household by barking orders and withholding privileges. One who never had a single kind word to say about anybody, but doled out the insults like candy spewing from a punctured piñata.

And the damn car he was out here washing-had, in fact, been ordered by Frank to wash-was not fucking Frank's car to sell! It had been their father's car, and one day, Jim hoped, it would be either his or Sam's. It was one of the few possessions of their father's, their real father's, they had left.

That Frank wanted to sell something of George Kirk's, for his own profit, was a humongous, Mount Rushmore-size sin. That this act was the final straw that broke the camel's back in regards to Sam's tolerance of their living situation was even worse.

He didn't want to be alone. He wanted his brother, and he didn't think that was too much to ask since the universe had already seen fit to take his father from him, at birth no less, and his mother by proxy, since she had to work to put food on the table.

It was then that a flash of inspiration struck.

Frank saw fit to chase his brother away, did he? Well, Jim would ensure that Frank, too, would feel a loss. Someone needed to put the damn man in his place. No one crosses a Kirk and gets away with it.

Jim did not feel afraid, or intimidated, and he certainly felt no remorse as he slid into the driver's seat of the car and revved the engine. Instead there was a faint tingling of excitement, starting in the pit of his belly and expanding rapidly throughout the rest of his body as he pushed the gas peddle down.

In a flash, the car, and Jim with it, was off. Wind whipped through his hair and beat against his face. The world passed by in a whirl of color, and the speed he was traveling, combined with the illicitness of his actions, produced the most awesome sense of euphoria Jim had ever felt. It even topped that one time Spock kinda smiled at him, in an understated, Vulcan-y type way. This… was… awesome. The danger, the excitement, the taking action in a cause that he believed in… all of it was cool. He didn't know why he hadn't done anything like this before, clearly he'd been missing out!

His glee remained with him for all of ten minutes, the time it took to drive from the Kirk household to the ravine up north.

Oh yeah, by the time Jim was done with the car it would be so far beyond selling condition the only thing it could be used for was scrap metal.

That'ld show him, the brother-alienating, father-usurping, dickwad.

It wasn't until the car was so close to the edge of the abyss, and Jim knew he had to bail or die, that an odd thought formed in his head…

He wondered what it would be like to go over the ledge with the car. What it would feel like to soar through the sky like a bird, if only for a moment. It would certainly lead to the end of his pain. He wouldn't have to feel guilty any more for looking like his dead daddy, the way everyone said he did, thus reminding them of their loss; wouldn't have to feel guilty for being bonded to a half Vulcan who found his humanity disconcerting, and that was the nice way of putting it. Wouldn't have to feel awkward for being a burden on his mom, and Spock's mom, and even Spock himself. He could go to the place where his dad was, wherever that might be, and they could have grand adventures together, since his dad had been the adventurous sort, much like Jim himself. Jim just knew that they would get each other, were they to ever meet.

But then he pictured Spock's almost-smile, and their shared passion for classic books, and his mom's shining eyes, felt the taste of Lady Amanda's banana bread on his tongue, and saw the skeleton of a Starfleet shipyard not far in the horizon. A shipyard that built the vessels to take people into space, where a whole universe was out there to explore.

And then he remembered that he had a report due tomorrow. And that Spock and the Lady Amanda were coming to visit in a few days. And that his mom was coming home for his birthday. And that he still had to whip Sally Forthead's butt in this year's science fair, because Jim won it every year, and he had a reputation to uphold. No way he was letting anyone beat him. No way.

So he jumped just as the car was dipping forwards, grabbing onto the ravine's edge with every bit of strength at his disposal, so afraid over what he'd almost done to himself he was shaking. And yes, his fingers hurt like hell when he pulled himself up, and he was going to be sore for days, if not weeks. And yeah, there was a cop there waiting to interrogate him, and he was going to have to face Frank's wrath, and somehow do it without bursting out laughing, the way he really, really wanted to, because the man's expression was bound to be priceless… Jim was supposed to be the good one. Sam was the rebel. But well, he was alive.

And he was pretty cool with that, all truth be told.

His gladness over his state of existence turned out to be short-lived, because what followed was being interrogated for what seemed like hours on end at the sheriff's office. Then being dropped off at home to a sullen Sam, who apparently hadn't made it very far with his running away attempt, curious as he was about Jim's final stand (surprisingly there was no sign of Frank, and Jim would admit to being wildly relieved at that). And then Jim had to deal with not only getting reamed by his mother, via communiqué, but the subspace glare of a very serious half-Vulcan not seconds afterwards.

"Heya, Spock. What's up?" he couldn't help but chirp when he answered the call (after his mom's telling off, he really should have known better than to answer incoming transmissions).

"You are the most illogical being I have ever met. I know about the automobile, Jim," Spock said by means of greeting, and Jim couldn't help but roll his eyes.

First off, what kid their age used the word 'illogical'? It was weird. And secondly… this was so freakin' typical! Spock always thought him crazy. The implication had lost its oomph five years ago.

"How did you even know? My mom was too busy chewing me out to call yours about what happened, and Frank is probably at the local bar getting shitfaced, mourning the money he woulda made on my dad's car. Plus, I thought you blocked our bond-thing so you don't have to put up with my 'illogicalness' on a daily basis?"

"You were in danger, and your emotions where strong. I am not adept enough to block our bond when such extreme situations occur. Please refrain from any future instances of blatant recklessness."

As sad as Jim found the idea, that was typical, too. Jim would make Spock feel something, Spock would get all huffy about it, and then he'd retreat from being Jim's friend, not to mention future husband, even more than he would before. Jim wished, just once, that Spock would say, 'hey Jim, I'm glad you're okay. I would have missed you had you gone away.'

Was someone being glad that he was alive really too much to ask?