Last chapter before the epilogue.
Jim didn't trust them. Well, none of them really did. When they saw the Starfleet uniforms, they first thought it was another hallucination caused by hunger. Then they thought perhaps it was a trap. After stalking them and seeing a group of officers beam up to their ship, Jim decided to approach them rather than hide. If anything, they could at least get off this planet.
He made sure he and his seven kids stayed in a group and beamed up together. When they arrived in the transporter room of the USS Allegiance, the adults were there, talking down to them like children in friendly, high pitched voices in an attempt to reassure them. Minus the four year old, everyone else in the group felt annoyance at the treatment.
"Let me talk to the person in charge," Jim stepped forward, eying everyone in the room and cataloging their weapons and keeping an eye on the doctors scanning them with tricorders.
A woman stepped forward with annoying sympathy in her eyes. He could tell right away she was only indulging him when she spoke, "Is something wrong?"
"I just want to make one thing clear, we don't split up. I want to ensure they all get where they need to be."
Jim didn't believe it was much of a request. He wanted to make sure the kids he spent taking care of the past several months got to where they needed to be.
The woman however shook her head. "I'm afraid that is not possible. There are varying levels of medical attention each of you need and there is not enough room on this ship to keep you together."
Jim's voice dropped to a cold and deadly level. "Then make room."
One of the doctors showed her a tricorder reading that made her frown, and she looked at him with concern. "Sweetie, why don't we go get checked out by a doctor. I'll make sure your friends are safe."
"They aren't my friends. They're my kids, and I will not leave them."
"Honey, you really should come with us. You need medical attention," she touched his arm. He jerked back from her touch as if her touched burned.
Kevin screamed. Jim turned around to see Kevin being picked up by one of the security team members. The other teens had been sedated already by the doctors, being loaded onto stretchers. A doctor tried to give him a hypo while he was distracted.
No longer did Jim see Starfleet officers in front of him. The screaming, his kids' unconscious forms, something in him snapped. Maybe he had finally lost it, maybe it was another hunger hallucination, but all he could see were Kodos' men and his kids in trouble.
He took the hypo from the doctor's hand, stabbing him with it, knocking him out with the contents. Another guard tried to restrain him, but Jim drew the knife from his sleeve, stabbing him in the chest. "Jim!"
Kevin's scream made him barrel through the next two guards. He could only see Kevin reaching for him, fighting his captor with desperation marring his face. He fought harder, slitting the wrist of another guard who grabbed him. He saw another grab a phaser to shoot at him, but the woman from before yelled, "Don't shoot! It could kill him." Jim had fewer reservations. He shot the guard's hand with his hidden phaser, searing a hole through the skin. He turned and round house kicked another to the head, making the man stumble back, and following through with his knife. All this was down with cold, clinical efficiency as Jim ran after Kevin.
"Jim! Jim!" The teen was almost there. Just half a meter. His fingers brushed Kevin's ready to pull him out of the man's grip when he felt the familiar sting from a phaser. His head swam and his body collapsed, but he refused to lose consciousness. Kevin grabbed the doorframe, still kicking and screaming for him. Jim couldn't lose another one. He couldn't take it.
He forced himself onto his feet until he was shot down again, this time losing consciousness with Kevin's screams ringing in his ears.
"All good things have to come to an end," Jim thought, adjusting his shirt yet again. The next few days were going to be hectic, filing report after report, and he wasn't looking forward to the meeting with the admiral.
Glancing over at Spock, he resisted asking if he was okay. The admirals probably wouldn't notice, but Spock's limp, the slight slouch in his posture, his still too pale skin, and his stiff movements were engrained in Jim's mind as a constant presence.
Spock met his gaze and addressed what was on Jim's mind for the fourth time that morning. "I am adequate Jim."
"Positive? Because I'm sure McCoy would love to get you off duty." And maybe they shouldn't have slept together the night before with Spock still injured.
"I would prefer to be at attendance to the meeting with the admirals. They have proved to be biased when reviewing your mission reports."
It was a lost cause to make Spock rest. Jim knew that, and if he kept pushing, Spock would just counter by saying Jim should be on bed rest too. The only reason they weren't forced to was because McCoy had been holed up in the research labs working on his own cure while he was officially off duty. For a brief moment, Jim sympathized with Bones.
He entered the conference room, taking his seat in front of the monitor, waiting for it to start. He felt Spock take his position behind him to his right. Jim sighed, rubbing his temples. "Spock, you're not standing on your newly healed leg for this entire meeting."
"I prefer to stand."
Out of sight of the admiralty, the captain mentally tacked on to the end of Spock's statement. True, anyone sitting at the table would be visible by the admiral, and where Spock was standing he would stay out of sight. Normally, the extra support would be welcomed, but he refused to allow Spock to push himself. "You're not even on duty. Take a seat."
"Neither are you if I recall, Captain." As Jim predicted, Spock brought it up the moment Jim did. It seriously made Jim consider giving Bones a break when the older man told him to take it easy.
"Take a seat, Spock. I will pull rank on you."
Spock lips thinned, showing his displeasure but did take a seat, much to Kirk's pleasure. It would be another week of treatment before the worst of Spock's injuries were adequately healed, and he was going to make damn sure Spock allowed time to let them. He glanced at Spock's hands again, feeling guilt but knowing better than to voice them aloud.
"Captain, Admiral Barnett is hailing. Should I patch him through?" Lieutenant Redd called through the comm.
"Yeah," Jim replied, resisting the urge to rub his eyes again. Well Barnett wasn't the worst admiral they could have put in charge of this meeting. While the young captain hadn't left a good impression on him with the Kobayashi Maru incident, the admiral had been accepting of his promotion though he was much stricter with him than with other captains, not that Jim blamed him. He knew exactly how he came off to people. He worked hard for that image and for it to come naturally to him.
The admiral's face appeared on the monitor. The man looked tired but was still well groomed and would pass inspection if subjugated to it. "Captain Kirk," he greeted. "You look like hell."
"Feel like it, sir," he responded easily.
The man gave a soft amused smile before turning his attention to Spock. "Commander Spock. I am surprised to see you out of sickbay. I caught a glimpse of your medical report."
"Admiral Barnett," Spock greeted but offered nothing else to the conversation, choosing to sit silently.
"If you don't mind, Admiral, I'd like to give you the report quickly and conclude this meeting. There's a lot to be done."
"I'm sure. The admiralty has quite a few questions."
Jim gave him the story, starting from being shot down in the shuttle to waking up in sickbay. He told Barnett about the aliens and their motives and of the colonists' hostile behavior and of what he was forced to do, but left out Spock killing said alien at the end. Thankfully, the admiral didn't interrupt the story, allowing Jim's quick and precise explanation of events.
"After the ship began falling apart, the USS Remembrance caught our life signatures after the shielding disabled and beamed us aboard before we died. The rest you already know from their report."
The admiral was frowning, looking at Spock with sympathy behind his eyes. "You were tortured, Commander?"
"The captain speaks with emotionalism as he suggests that the unknown alien life forms were intentionally causing harm to extract information or pain. Experimented on would be more accurate, Admiral."
Jim threw Spock a glare. Only Spock would casually say he was experimented on as if it were no big deal.
"Holding and imprisoning any sentient being is a crime, especially with an endangered species."
The captain's hand gripped tightly around the stylus he was holding at the reminder. He still remembered Spock making his captain's log that day announcing it aloud as the implications of what he was saying began to stick. I am now a part of an endangered species. He had almost lost Spock to the New Vulcan project, and would have if the Vulcan's elder counterpart did not persuade him otherwise. He wished Nero was alive just so he could throw him into the black hole again and again. He swore Spock was thinking something similar though the Vulcan was concealing his emotions when he deflected back to the topic at hand.
"As we have killed these life forms and ultimately caused their extinction, we are willing to accept responsibility," the Vulcan answered stiffly.
"No need, Commander. It was obviously self defense." Barnett seemed to give Spock a critical look over as if trying to assess the damage from light years away. "You are however off duty until further notice." He looked back at Kirk. "And light duty for you, Kirk. I want you to head for Earth for a month of shore leave. Mandatory," he added when Kirk opened his mouth to protest. "I also want you both to have your psych evals done within the next 24 hours, and I would like it if you both were to rest rather than running the ship after two weeks of no sleep."
Jim silently cursed McCoy for telling the admiral that neither of them had slept much the past two weeks. Damn traitor probably listed off every medical issue, patient confidentiality thrown out the window. "Not likely, sir. I have families to write and about 200 pages of Scotty's report to read through including repair reports, and I'm sure half of the repairs and upgrades probably not okayed by Starfleet."
Barnett chuckled. "Your command staff is one hell of an eccentric group. It's amazing you stay functional."
"We aren't that bad," he defended before he could stop himself.
Barnett raised an eyebrow. Could everyone do the eyebrow lift thing but Jim? "Your chief medical officer has a fear of space and technology, your chief engineer is not only possessive of your ship but keeps trying to make unapproved upgrades, your co-navigator and weapons officer is a 19 year-old genius who thinks everything was made in Russia, you logical and very Vulcan XO and science officer somehow manages to follow your illogical shenanigans, and you manage to keep them all in check and somehow out logic and out stubborn all of them."
Putting it that way actually did manage to bring a smile to Jim's face. He did love his crew, his family. "Genius' do tend to be eccentric, sir. Just proves that I have the best of the best working under me."
"And you'll have one more joining you."
That statement alone was enough to wipe the smile of Jim's face. "I do not understand, sir."
Barnett looked amused at the apparent displeasure wafting off Kirk. "A cadet will be transferring to your ship. He will be arriving with Admiral Komack in 26 hours."
"I did not approve of any transfers," he barely held himself back to keep from snapping. He did not like that the admiral had gone over his head. So much so that it took him a moment to register that Komack was arriving as well. "Komack is coming," he asked darkly.
"Yes," the admiral said in a way that dared Kirk to argue with him. "And Kirk, try not to kill him." The connection cut with that parting message. Fuck whatever he thought about Barnett before, Jim hated that man now.
The comm beeped and Jim smashed the button with more force than necessary. "What?!" he snapped.
The lieutenant on the other line hesitated at the sharp answer, long enough that Jim thought he had closed the connection. "Lieutenant Uhura and a young boy have been picked up by the USS Remembrance. They are being transported to the Enterprise now."
Jim was up and out of his seat heading to the transport room before the sentence even finished, leaving Spock to confirm that the message was heard and play catch up to the eager captain.
As they entered the turbolift McCoy managed to slip inside and stab Jim's neck with a hypo, earning himself a long string of Klingon curses from the captain and a murderous glare. "I thought you were off duty."
"I'm the only one willing to track you down when you don't show up for your appointments," McCoy growled, turning to Spock. "And you're no better."
Spock merely ticked an eyebrow at McCoy and raised his right sleeve so McCoy could administer a hypo. The doctor bypassed the arm and went straight for the neck, earning himself an actual glare from the Vulcan.
"You're just the only one brave enough to assault your captain in public," Jim grumbled, rubbing his sore neck.
"Stop your whining. If you came to medbay like you're supposed to, I wouldn't have to be your goddamn sitter. It's been like this since the academy." At Jim's sheepish grin, the doctor's scowl grew. "I also came to find you because you and Spock need to talk."
Though used to his friend's mother henning and interference, Jim had a hard time resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "We already talked everything out."
"Not likely. Seriously, there is something important Spock needs to tell you," McCoy glared at the Vulcan, "and you aren't getting out of it this time."
It would have been simple to tell Bones to shut up and that everything was okay between them, but of course, Jim decided to embarrass both of them. With a pervy smile Bones recognized all too well, he looked at Spock. "Nah, I think Spock did everything he needed to do last night. He definitely came with one thought in mind." The blushes on his friends' faces were completely worth whatever punishment Bones managed to come up with during his next physical. He didn't however expect to be assaulted with another hypo so quickly. "Really?!"
"After everything you two put me through, it was way too damn easy to put you two together. And the hypo was for not being able to keep your pants on for a week. You both almost died less than four days ago! No physical activities!"
"Yeah, yeah," the captain grumbled. He seriously thought he bruised with that last one.
Thankfully, the turbolift's doors opened, and it was a short walk way to the transporter room. Luca was being placed on a stretcher as Uhura watched. "What happened?" he asked, going to Luca's side.
"He didn't want to leave you behind so he was sedated," she answered, looking up at Jim and Spock. Her eyes narrowed when she caught glimpse of Spock's hands. "I managed to convince the other ship to allow Luca to be transported onto the Enterprise."
He had McCoy verify he was okay and really just unconscious, before allowing them to cart the boy off to sickbay. He would be unconscious for a while with the strong dosage. He turned to Uhura, his stormy expression softening, "Are you okay?"
"Yes captain, sorry it took so long to return," she saluted.
"What happened?"
"When Starfleet started beaming down, there were colonists who put up a fight. They didn't believe they were here to rescue them. We had to escape the area to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Once I learned however that it was Starfleet, I returned to meet up with them. Luca was more reluctant," she hesitated, uncertain if she should say more about Luca's behavior.
He just waved her off. "Go to sickbay and get looked over. You're off duty until further notice."
She looked unsure if being taken off duty was a good thing, but thanked him anyway as she shuffled out of the room.
"I'll go make sure my underling takes care of them," McCoy patted him on the shoulder.
"Hold on Bones, I'll go with you." He followed his friend down to sickbay, hoping that both were as alright as they seemed.
When Jim awoke, he was restrained to a biobed in medbay. He heard people coming and going, heard doctors talking in hushed voices around him. He pretended to remain unconscious, going over the events in his head. He felt groggy. He was probably administered sedatives to keep him asleep. He admitted to himself he overreacted. No, he acted on instinct. The moment his children were in danger, he acted to protect them, but they weren't in danger. Logically, he knew they were knocked out because they were in pain. They all were. They had just grown so used to it, walking on fractured bones, ignoring phaser and knife wounds, hunger being a constant companion. Given the situation, the doctors had probably figured out by this point that they wouldn't have willing subjected themselves to be put under, and they weren't old enough to give medical consent to anything. Still, Jim did not feel the situation was handled well.
Unfortunately, he couldn't feign sleep for long. His brainwaves gave him away after a short while. The woman from before took a seat at his bedside a few hours later. She was a pretty young woman. Dirty blonde hair, pulled back into a sever bun, glasses on the tip of her nose that gave her a librarian look, and a petite frame. She smiled at him sweetly. "Would you like something to eat?"
"No," Jim said tonelessly. He just stared at the ceiling. He had already tested his restraints, not that it mattered. There was nowhere to run and no reason to try. "Where are my kids?"
"Randy, Kevin, Isis, and Ester are on their way to their respective guardians and families. Zander, Patty, and Tai are in the sickbay on another ship. Your wounds were quite severe, so you stayed here."
It made sense, Jim thought. The teens were the ones who fought and protected so they needed medical attention. The younger children tended to stay behind, and Jim did his best to keep them out of the fray.
"It's amazing you're alive," she said softly. "The amount of injuries you had was almost three times the amount of the others. Do you want to talk about it?"
Jim remained tight lipped, staring at the grey ceiling. It had been a long time since he stayed in an actual man-made enclosure.
"You almost killed two of the guards you attacked. Did you know that?"
"If I wanted them dead, they would be," Jim stated so matter of factly it disturbed the woman, making her shift uncomfortably. "How long were we down there?"
"Three months."
Only three months? It had felt like a lifetime. So much death in such a short time.
"All of them asked for you when they woke. You must be really important to them."
Jim continued to say nothing. All of his kids were safe and going home to their families. His usefulness had ended. He accomplished his goal in safeguarding the ones who remained. So where would he go?
"You mother is on her way to collect you. She should be here in a day or so." When Jim didn't show any reaction, she added, "Isn't that great?"
Could Jim actually go back to normal life after this? Somehow he didn't think so.
"Is there anything you'd like to eat?" She tried again.
"I want to go back to the surface. I need to do something."
The woman went on about how great of an idea it was. How getting closure would do wonders for him. She was an idiot. He didn't care about closure or anything of the sort, but he did leave his things behind, having been focused on other things at the time.
According to the woman, Jim didn't bother listening to or remembering her name, he had been kept unconscious and restrained for five days to protect himself and others. He apparently had violent nightmares and had almost harmed himself in his sleep, and of course they hadn't trusted him to not attack if he was awake. Going to the surface, he was accompanied by three guards, all extremely wary of him. He paid them little mind. He went to their last hide out and checked the bag he had accidentally left. Maggie's doll was still inside as well as a few other trinkets, including Joanna's locket.
Getting what he came for, he beamed back aboard. He had been gone for less than ten minutes which caused the woman in charge of him to again scrunch her face in confusion. She probably expected him to cry and spend a bit more time on the surface or something.
"Jim!" Another woman, came out of nowhere, enveloping him into a tight hug. She looked familiar, she had golden locks with a few strands of grey, sun kissed skin, and had an earthy scent, reminiscent of the farm he had grown up on. Oh, so that's who she was. "Jim," she sobbed, holding him tightly as if he'd disappear the moment she let go.
He just let her hold him, waiting until his mother finished crying. She kept mumbling apologies and talked about how she rushed to get there to pick him up. She kept touching his shoulders and face and all Jim could think was, he did not know this woman. "I'm ready to go."
"Of course," his mother replied, wiping her tears.
The next thing Jim knew, he was on a shuttle, heading to Earth, leaving Tarsus far behind.
Luca was okay. He had some fractures and bruising and of course was seriously malnutritioned and dehydrated, but he would survive. It was more of the mental scars they were worried about. The lieutenant just had some bruising and was also a bit undernourished. While they were there, Dr. M'Benga came to administer the psych test to Jim and Uhura claiming that Spock took his before he left sickbay and McCoy after the surgery. The ship psychologist, Dr. Lieb, then came to set up appointments with them. Uhura opted for now, while Jim claimed he had important captianly things to do and put it off as long as he could, which was two days.
Tired and exasperated, the captain wandered to Spock's quarters letting himself in. Spock looked up at the intrusion, raising an eyebrow at him. Jim only partially paid attention as he made himself comfortably at Spock's desk, clean from paperwork as always. It was perfect for propping his feet up on the desk without worrying about spilling PADDs all over the floor. While the room was warm, it wasn't stifling as it always was when Jim came over unexpectedly. It was warm enough to make him slightly uncomfortable, but not drenched in sweat. Spock had lowered the heat recently.
"Aren't you cold?" he asked as Spock placed a cup of coffee in front of him.
"It is noticeable as I have yet to correct my shielding," Spock admitted. It was then Jim noticed Spock wearing the hand knitted sweater Amanda had made him. Spock rarely wore it. Jim had only seen it a handful of times, usually when a mission had gone seriously downhill for them. He guessed even a Vulcan had some equivalent to a safety blanket. As far as Jim knew, the sweaters were some of the very few things Spock had left of his mother. That and a single picture Spock kept framed on his bookshelf behind his desk.
"Computer, raise temperature by 4 degrees."
"Raising temperature to 32 degrees Celsius," the computer responded in a monotone female voice.
"That was unnecessary." If Spock could sigh, Jim thought he would have. "And if it would not trouble you, I would suggest removing your feet off my desk."
A smile inched its way on Jim's face at the underlying annoyance in Spock's voice. "Thanks Spock, it would trouble me. You are so considerate," he had a hard time not laughing at Spock when annoyance flashed across the Vulcan's eyes.
"You are being deliberately obtuse."
"You said if it would not trouble me," he laughed. "You should know by now that any loophole I find, I'm going to take."
Spock apparently had enough of his behavior and went back to the chess set the human had failed to notice entering. His laughter stopped and his body drooped. "Am I really that predictable?"
Spock paused in his set up of the board. "When you are stressed you have the habit of bothering Doctor McCoy, playing chess, or seeking sexual gratification. As Doctor McCoy is currently working in the medical labs─"
"The other two options would lead to you," the captain finished for him with a smile.
"I would not say you are predictable as I have yet to figure out your chess strategy or your normal behavior," Spock carefully moved the chess set to his desk. "For example, the urge to randomly let yourself into my quarters when you see fit."
The captain shrugged, removing his feet. "Random inspections?"
"As you phrased it as a suggestion and it is only my and the doctor's quarters you randomly enter, I will assume that is neither the real reason nor do you have a real answer."
Jim laughed again, making the first move. "You're just upset that I beat you at chess."
Spock smiled a little before he made his move. "I believe you made the same accusation when you beat my test."
"Just admit it, Spock. You have a huge competitive streak and hate losing."
Spock tilted his head as if conceding to his statement. "A remnant of my childhood most likely."
Jim recalled the time when Spock mentioned his childhood, how he had been bullied by his classmates and elders for being a hybrid. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. No wonder all the captains want you as their first officer. They practically drool over your resume." He took his time making his next move. "You could probably get your own ship if you wanted it."
"I have been offered twice, as well been requested by three separate captains." Spock took a sip of his tea.
Jim jerked his head up. He hadn't been told that before.
"I declined. As I have stated before, I have no desire for the captain's seat as I much prefer my scientific duties. As for the offers for a transfer, I also have no desire to switch from the Enterprise. I have lost my family once. I am not eager to give up another so easily."
Jim smiled softly. "Even Bones?"
"While I find the doctor loud, exuberant, slightly xenophobic, and his medical knowledge questionable, I believe he is the equivalent to what you humans refer to as the crazy uncle." There was mirth in Spock's eyes as he added, "Or the eccentric mother-in-law."
That did earn a hearty laugh from Jim, doubled over in his jovial laugh and almost knocking the board over. "Oh man, I got to tell Bones. It's too true."
It took a good two minutes for him to work the giggles out of his system. In that time Spock made his own move and waited for Kirk to get a hold of himself. "I guess Bones does overprotect me sometimes. Wionna, while she loves me, I could never think of her as a mom." His face sobered as he talked. "I guess I never gave her the chance. After Tarsus, she realized her mistakes and tried hard to reconnect, but for me, it was just too late. Sam was gone, and I'd seen hell, and my kids…they were taken from me. It hurt so damn much, like my purpose and usefulness was just stripped away. I couldn't understand how she could leave us so willingly for space. I raised myself by that point, and I didn't see a reason for her to interfere." His smile took on a bitter edge. "I'm sure she thinks I hate her. I haven't contacted her since I left home."
"Do you?"
Jim shook his head tiredly. "I don't know her enough to hate her."
Spock waited patiently for Jim to make his move and readily made his when he was able. "It is not too late."
"No, but right now, I'm just not ready to forgive her."
"Understandable."
They played in silence for a while. Silence was something Jim used to hate, but he didn't mind so much here, just listening to the soft clicks of the board was enough to settle his overactive mind. The ability to stop thinking had always been difficult thing for him to do. To focus on one task at hand was a blessing and chess helped with it. With a long gulp of his now lukewarm replicated coffee, he slid down into his chair. "Am I selfish for not wanting to help with the rescue effort?"
"Yes," Spock replied instantly, eying the board for a second. "However, everyone is entitled to selfish decisions occasionally."
Jim hummed, "How often is that, 'cause I'm pretty sure I used up at least three lifetimes by now."
"If you wish, you can relay the orders to me, and I will follow them through."
Jim tapped his finger on the table, a sign he was tempted but not likely to take the offer. "I don't think I can ask that from you. It'd look irresponsible of me, shoving my injured first officer back into duty when I'm capable. Not that you aren't going behind my back doing my paperwork already." He shot Spock a disapproving look which the Vulcan pointedly ignored.
"As I am relieved of all my duties, I can spend my time as I prefer to spend it."
"Doing my paperwork."
Spock's lips thinned, and Jim swore the Vulcan was sulking. "There is very little to occupy my time as Doctor McCoy and Doctor M'Benga have put their medical overrides on all my science equipment and files."
"So the only thing you had access to is my terminal and my work. I said this before and I'll say it again, Spock, you need a hobby."
"I have a hobby; unfortunately, I am unable to indulge at this time."
"Why not?"
Spock glanced over to his left. Jim followed his gaze and it landed on a Vulcan lyre, presented on its stand in a corner, ready to play whenever Spock saw fit. If Spock could ever play again, that was. Spock was good. Occasionally, Spock would play in the rec room and several crew members would listen to him play. A few even joined him on their own instruments, and if Uhura was free, she would make up songs about the people in the room and sing and dance. Jim had only listened to him play twice. It never occurred to him that there might be a time he would never get a chance to again.
Spock flexed the fingers in his right hand, only two of them moving. The two that moved caused the Vulcan pain, still oversensitive to every move. "Perhaps we can accomplish the task together?"
Forcing his eyes away from the bandaged, Jim had to backtrack in their conversation to figure out what Spock was referring to and recalled the offer to help with the rescues. Smiling softly, he brushed his fingers over Spock's, enjoying the soft flush on Spock's cheeks from the action. "I'd like that."
Jim woke up screaming. Another dream about Tarsus. A combination of Jabari's death and him killing his kids in order to preserve the others. This had been going on since his return home; normally he could keep from yelling though. As he gained awareness of his surroundings, he realized he had his mother pinned to the ground with a knife to her neck. This was the third time in the two months he had been home. This nightmare must have been particularly bad if he had been screaming and had not woken up when someone entered his domain.
With a mumbled apology, he let her go, hiding the knife back on his person. He had a phaser underneath his pillow, not that Wionna had to know about it. He watched distantly as she rubbed her throat. He'd give it to the woman for not freaking out, though she was a bit frightened. He could see it in her eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She tried.
As usual, his answer was no. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed a bag and escaped out the second story window before she could stop him. He slept fully dressed because of nights like these. He rarely slept. He had gone so long without it that he felt tired if he slept more than 3 hours in two days.
His psychiatrist said his nightmares were because of guilt and that he was suffering depression. He was given pills to take for it. Jim flushed them all down the toilet and stopped going to his sessions after the second one. No, Jim wouldn't sleep because it was habit. He didn't fear the nightmares. He needed the reminders of what he had done. He didn't deserve to forget. He didn't feel guilty about the things he did because they would have all died if he hadn't. He felt bad for the things he wasn't able to do, like keep all of them alive. It wasn't that he wouldn't eat, he just stole the food he wanted or hunted it himself as he was unable to take the sweetness of processed food or get used to replicated food. He had a stash of hidden food in several locations.
Despite this, he could not adjust to normal life again. He still could not get rid of the hollow feeling within himself. He could not bring himself to feel again. He could not bring himself to look at people past their potential to be rapists or murderers. He could not walk into a room without cataloging exits and weapons.
Reaching his destination, he entered an old barn that had been abandoned for the past 40 years. He had a little set up. He had a hay bed, a handmade bow, and a few blankets in one corner and a stone Jim could warm with his phaser next to it. He was comfortable here. It was familiar. He placed his bag down and picked up his bow instead. Right now he just needed to hunt.
When Spock returned to his room after discussing the necessities and recommendations regarding the colonists with the captains of the three Starfleet vessels aiding in the rescue, he returned to find Kirk sitting and staring at the computer with smile of dark amusement on his face. The Vulcan didn't ask why that was, knowing Jim would speak when he was ready.
"The psychologist thinks I'm a psychopath," he finally said with dry amusement.
Spock quirked an eyebrow. "You should cease hacking into databases and files. The frequency in which you indulge your habit to gain information without going through the proper channels is alarmingly high." Nevertheless, Spock moved behind Jim to see the file he was looking it. It was not the psychologist's notes like Spock was expecting, but Luca's file. "How did he reach this conclusion?"
"My psych eval was exactly the same as before I entered the academy."
"I do not understand why that warrants concern," Spock said slowly.
"I just went through a traumatic experience, lost my crew members, and killed several colonists. It shouldn't be the same."
"Meaning it looks like the events did not affect you rather than never fully getting over the previous experience since you deleted your files."
Kirk rested his chin on his hand, staring at the screen. "I know how to pretend that I'm okay. Of course I'm not, but I know how to trick the system. I forgot that in this case, it'll backfire."
Spock sat on the edge of his desk, earning him a surprised glance from the human. "And the reason for hacking into Luca's file?"
"I wanted to know who he was going to end up with." Scrolling down, he landed on the relatives section of the file. "I killed his only living relative who would be willing to take him. His mom was an orphan and his dad married his mom against his parents' wishes and was disowned, so they want nothing to do with Luca."
"We can't keep him here, Jim."
Jim closed out of the file and quickly erased his tracks. He wouldn't look at Spock when he said, "I know. Maybe on a normal starship, but not an exploratory vessel like the Enterprise. I just wish there was something I could do."
There was nothing Spock could offer to make the situation better. Luca would have to eventually leave. Both he and Jim had understood that the moment they started taking care of him. "When will they come to retrieve him?"
"Two days. They plan to keep him under until tomorrow morning. It might be the only sleep he'll be able to get for a while. The nightmares will be pretty bad the first month or so." Jim breathed in deeply. "How was the talk with your dad?"
Spock got off the desk, showing his discomfort about the topic by the way he stood at attention and his hands behind his back. "He will meet me at the embassy with a healer upon our return. He requested I stay with him during the duration of the treatment."
With a grimace, Jim asked, "I don't need to be there do I?"
"My father would like to speak to you as well if you have a free moment, though he is aware that you may not have time."
The human nibbled on his lip in obvious worry.
"If you are afraid that my father is angry with you for the comments that emotionally compromised me, there is no need. He is aware that your only motive was to take control of the Enterprise and stop the Narada. And he is also aware of the change in the status of our relationship."
Briefly, Jim wondered when Spock had time to tell Sarek of all this. Spock had either been meditating, doing paperwork, or helping around the Enterprise, all against Dr. McCoy and M'Benga's orders of course, and too busy to have had any conversation at length with anyone except maybe Jim since he seemed to refuse to go back to his room except to sleep. Even then Spock would come into the captain's quarters later that night, anticipating the captain's nightmares and sleeping beside him.
"Spock, your father and grandmother scare the shit out of me. Nothing you say will ever change that."
"I do not understand why."
"They're your family, of course you don't. And you have never been on the receiving end of a Vulcan's wrath like I have. They have about twenty different reasons why they could kill me and hide my body and they could make it sound like it was necessary and logical thing to do."
"I will never understand why you humans feel the need to greatly exaggerate."
Jim huffed, wishing he could bother Bones for a drink. "I'm not exaggerating, and I'm not the only one who thinks they're scary as hell either. The admirals nearly shit themselves anytime they hear T'Pau wants to speak with them and bend over backwards to please your dad anytime time he comes to Earth 'cause if he wanted to, he could somehow manage to convince the Federation Council to serve under New Vulcan and not realize what they did until several years later, and that's with just staring them down. God forbid if he ever used words to do it."
Spock was laughing with his eyes, but still said in his normal even voice, "You greatly overestimate my father's diplomatic skills."
"I think you grossly underestimate it."
A smirk tugged at the corner of Spock's lips. "Perhaps."
The comm beeped, "Jim, get down to sick bay now," McCoy shouted over the speaker before a loud crash came over the other end.
Frowning, he pushed the button for the comm. "On my way."
Jim walked to sickbay in record time, frowning at the disarray the room was in. The tray of medical supplies was overturned, spilling rubbing alcohol and equipment all over the floor. A set of sheets thrown about and stained with blood, and Luca was missing from his bed.
He sealed the door with his captain override code and immediately searched for the source of the blood. A nurse was clutching his arm to stop the flow of blood as another tried to find a working dermal regenerator.
"He's awake," Jim said, already piecing together what happened.
The male nurse who had been attacked nodded. "I know you said women only unless it was Dr. McCoy, but he was supposed to be asleep and the others were busy, so I tried to give him his hypo. He completely flipped when he saw me. I don't know how long he'd been awake, but he managed to get a hold of a scalpel and attacked me with it. He's been hiding in the isolation ward since."
Jim nodded, heading to the room just as McCoy started giving the nurse a long winded lecture as he treated the wound. In the isolation room, he closed and locked the door just in case. "Luca?"
Jim listened carefully for movement. After calling out, a soft ruffle came from under the biobed. "Luca, it's Jim. It's okay to come out."
A few seconds passed before a soft, muffled voice spoke up. "Jim?" The fabric covering the edge of the bed lifted up, and the small form of Luca, clutching the scalpel like his lifeline, slowly revealed himself. "Jim?" he said louder.
The man squatted at the end of the bed, so Luca could get a clear view of his face. "Yeah, it's me."
Luca darted out from the small space, throwing himself into Jim's arms with enough force to knock the adult over onto his behind, refusing to catch himself in favor of hugging the boy back. The child cried in his arms, soaking his command shirt with tears. "I thought you left me. I didn't know if I'd see you again. I tried to be brave, but then Mr. Spock got hurt. I tried to look for you and, and-" Jim could barely understand between all the sobs and hiccups, but he rubbed soothing circles on the child's back.
"I know. You did a good job. Mr. Spock is okay thanks to you. I couldn't have done any better." Carefully, he stood, carrying the boy in his arms.
Luca continued to cry, refusing to let go of Jim again. He would get permission to take Luca to his room to sleep there. There was no chance the boy was going to trust anyone in sickbay or get any real rest while he was here. It was going to be hard letting Luca go. He didn't want to, but he would have to whether he was ready for it or not.
He returned home after his hunt. He could smell breakfast being cooked from the outside. It made both his mouth water and his stomach churn simultaneously. He supposed his mom couldn't go back to sleep after having a knife to her throat. The sun was just coming up, so it was still early.
Out of habit, Jim slipped into the house silently. Even with the aged farmhouse, he managed to avoid every creek as he traveled from room to room, minding his business. He stopped outside the kitchen when he heard his name.
"I don't know what to do. He won't let me help him. I think I'm making it worse instead of better… Of course I tried. He refuses to go anymore. I drop him off and wait outside, and he sneaks out the back door…I don't know. He won't talk, he goes out at night doing god knows what…You don't think I tried to follow him? He just evaded me. I'm at my wits end….I know it's my fault."
She turned around and was startled at the sudden presence of her son, dropping her phone. "Jim, you scared me."
He stared at her blankly. Without a word, he strode out of the kitchen to his room to pick up his phaser. He didn't plan to go to school that day. He rarely went to school, only appearing to take exams and keep from failing. He managed a C average going to school just doing that. They tried to stop him from leaving of course and tried to track him down, but getting passed them was child's play.
He spent his time during the day hanging out at the old bar twenty miles out in the middle of nowhere. The owner didn't question his age since Jim never drank. Jim just sit and watch people, occasionally ordering coffee or getting lunch. Jim would even help the owner maintain the place from time or time just so he could continue doing nothing with his life.
That day however, a young woman came in a bit early for happy hour, wearing skin tight clothing that would make most drool. She approached him with a sexy smile, leaning over slightly to show off her breasts. "Hey there handsome. Mind if I buy you a drink?"
Looking her over, Jim thought she would do. He had been told he looked older. It was his eyes. They had aged so much over three months. Very few thought he was a 15 year old boy, and hanging out at a bar all the time probably hadn't helped. At this point, he just wanted to feel even if it was superficial. He cracked a smile that didn't reach his eyes, but she either didn't notice or care, and he agreed to her offer.
It was the middle of the night when Komack beamed aboard. Jim had been imagining the different ways he could beat the shit out of Komack and find a reason to not get court martialed in the process. After rereading his orders and seeing Komack's signature on the bottom, he couldn't help but believe that the admiral sent him on purpose. His fists clenched behind his back twice when he saw the admiral materialize. He didn't even pay attention to the other man who accompanied him, still wearing his academy reds.
"Sir," the captain greeted through gritted teeth. He didn't bother to salute in fear of doing something he would regret. His anger was only calmed slightly, when he saw the black eye the admiral sported and the bruise on his jaw. It appeared someone had gotten to the admiral first.
"Kirk. I assume Barnett told you why I'm here." Komack stood with his shoulders squared and back straight, a perfect picture of a seasoned officer, radiating an air of authority, but Kirk had always been less than impressed with him.
"No, sir. He only said that you would be coming aboard with a new recruit," Jim glanced at the cadet standing behind Komack.
The two stood in an awkward silence, neither saying anything, sizing each other up. Komack was the first to falter, slouching in his posture and bowing his head. "I owe you an apology, Captain. I failed to relay all of the information to you, blinded by my personal feelings towards you. It was unprofessional of me. I never imagined it would lead to such a clusterfuck. For that I am sorry."
"Sorry, doesn't help the families I have to write to…sir." Kirk replied darkly, making sure the tacked on sir on the end sounded more of an insult than a sign of respect. "And if you're here to take command from me, I will request someone else from HQ."
"I am only here to observe and lend a hand where it's needed. I hear you have a large amount of paperwork you rather not be doing as usual."
Pushing all of his paperwork onto an admiral was tempting, but Jim ran his ship a certain way and he did not want this pencil pusher to have access to any document that could interfere with the retelling of events or authorization of certain repairs. "Spock, prepare an office for the admiral and a list of things still needed to be done."
Spock step forward from behind the transporter controls and greeted the admiral with a bow of his head. "If you would follow me, Admiral?"
Jim waited for Komack to be out of the room before addressing the cadet. "A yeoman will arrive to show you to your quarters."
Jim turned to leave, not really wanting to deal with anyone else that day when a familiar Irish accent stopped him. "That's mighty cold of you, big bro, leaving a lad like me here to wait around on this big ship."
Jim slowly turned, taking a closer look at the cadet. The cadet had removed his cap, revealing his dirty blonde hair and boyish face. He held a mischievous look in his eyes as he regarded his captain. "Don't tell me you forgot? I told ya I'd be coming to serve under you in my last letter."
A slow, wide grin spread on the captain's face. "Kevin?"
"Aye, that's me. Ensign Riley at your service, Captain Jim," he mocked bowed, also smiling from ear to ear. "Though I must say, sir, you look like hell."
"Kevin!" Jim laughed.
"Glad I can put a smile on that face. I hope you like what I've done to that dick's face."
Widening his eyes in disbelief, he asked, "That was you?"
Kevin's grin only got brighter. "Why don't we catch up a bit before you assign me to some lowly ensign duties, yeah?"
Jim brought Kevin to the observation deck. It was clear of people at this time of night and had a beautiful view of the stars. They sat observing each other after their long separation. Kevin had grown obviously. His eyes were brighter, and his smile easy and calm. He was a healthy weight now with a healthy color to his skin. Jim could still see the past in the depths of his eyes, the part that showed that Kevin was still a survivor, but he was adjusted and happy.
"Barnett told me the situation. He thought maybe you could use someone around who could understand. Of course, I made sure to pay Komack back first. He seemed to know he was wrong though. He didn't go to medbay to fix it up afterwards."
It was hard to hold back a smile, but Jim still tried to reprimand him. "That was reckless, Kev, you could have been court martialed."
"Come on, Jim. I'm a grown man now. I can take care of myself." Kevin's eyes locked onto and analyzed every injury Jim had that were visible, eyes losing more and more cheerfulness with each one. "I never did properly thank you for everything you did back then."
He dismissed the gratitude with a shake of his head. "It was nothing."
"It was everything," the cadet insisted, leaning forward in his seat. "I didn't understand back then how much you did. It wasn't until I was eleven when it occurred to me that all those men I wounded probably died, and I was fifteen when I realized all those times you disappeared after we got into a scuffle was because you were finishing them off, so I wouldn't be the one that killed them." Kevin gave him an incredulous look. "The things you did by yourself to keep our nightmares at bay, how did you manage?"
Tiredly, Jim ran a hand over his face. "I'm not a saint, Kev. I had thoughts of abandoning you guys. I even left once."
"But you always came back. Even then."
"Yeah… I guess I did," the captain smiled softly.
"I brought something for you." Kevin placed a hologram device on the table between them and a stack of letters. He activated the hologram and it looped between many photos. Photos of graduations, marriages, and families. All the faces were familiar. All his kids were grown up, happy with their own kids and lives. "I got in contact with them all with the help of Barnett. Hearing what you just went through, they wanted to give you the same hope you gave them. They all wrote you a letter. We all know how much you love paper."
Jim picked up the stack of letter, seeing the names of each of his kids, including Kevin. In the middle of the stack was a single hard copy photo of Jabari, a year younger, sitting on the stairs of the porch to his house with a rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes sharp and clear as ever, watching the photographer with suppressed amusement and annoyance.
"His parents didn't have any pictures of him except for that one. They wanted you to have it."
"Thank you." Jim's voice was rough with emotion, unsure what to say or do. "This means a lot."
"Of course it does. We're your kids." Kevin grinned. "Sorry, if we let you think that we've forgotten that."
Jim chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I thought maybe a little."
Kevin turned off the holo device. "I'm glad you look okay. You seem a little happier despite this shitty mission. Something happen?"
"Is it that obvious?"
Kevin nodded.
Jim smiled shyly, scratching his cheek absentmindedly. "I started to see someone. For real this time."
Clapping his hands together, Kevin moved to the edge of his seat excitedly, "That's great news! Is she cute?"
Before Jim could answer, the door to the observation deck opened. "Captain," Spock strode in, mindful of the cadet in the room. "The admiral is settled in with what you would call busy work."
Titling his head, he gave Spock a warm smile. "Thanks Spock. I'll be there shortly."
Kevin looked between them. He waited until the Vulcan excused himself before pouncing. "He's hot, for a Vulcan I guess." He laughed at Jim's blush. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you. You deserve be happy once in a while."
"Once in a while?"
"Well he is Vulcan. I can only imagine the arguments you guys get into or "not" get into."
Jim laughed as well. "I don't know, I think Spock really enjoys "not" arguing with people. Drives my CMO crazy. As for us, we're either arguing or on the same page. Either way it's amusing. I think our arguments are more of a game now days though. I'll choose the opposite choice sometimes just to rile him up."
"To each his own." Kevin stood up stretching, cracking his back into place. "I should get to work. Let Komack take the brunt of the dirty work and get some sleep. If I know you, you've only slept a couple hours since getting back."
"I'll try. I have you bunking with Ensign Chekov. I didn't realize I would be bunking two 19 year old geniuses together."
"We'll try not to blow something up. For the first month anyway. No guarantees after that." The young man left, his laughter still audible even after the door closed behind him.
Making himself comfortable, Jim picked up the first letter of the stack and started reading.
It really wasn't fair.
Jim awoke in his bed with Luca curled up against his side. Due to fatigue Luca had been sleeping most of his stay, or trying too. Often he would wake after a couple hours, seeking Jim's presence until he fell asleep again, and Jim was reluctant to leave his side the past day and a half. Spock had been kind enough to take the brunt of the work, dealing with Komack and other menial tasks so Jim could spend time with him.
When Luca was awake, the young boy wanted to know everything about the ship, asking Jim endless questions from his daily routine to how fast the Enterprise could go. He never wanted to leave Jim's quarters however, and Jim never forced him. It would take time to heal his emotional scars, but there was no doubt in Jim's mind that Luca would gain the courage to face them. He just needed a little time for the wounds to scab over a bit more before pushing himself further.
While Luca slept, Jim looked up everything he could about the foster family the child would stay with. The woman was just a little bit older than Jim, single, and had a job as a teacher without a single spot on her record minus a few minor traffic violations. She seemed well loved by the people she worked with and had adopted a young girl two years prior. There was no reason for him to dislike her, but he couldn't help but dislike her for being the one who would take care of Luca in the end.
He still hadn't told Luca that he would be leaving in an hour, and he really didn't want to. Rolling over, he sat up to turn off his alarm before it could go off. Unfortunately, the movement seemed to rouse Luca from his sleep as well. "Morning already?" he yawned.
"You can go back to sleep if you want."
The boy shook his head. Jim had cut the boy's hair for him the day before. It wasn't expertly done, but Luca had liked it, and the movement made the strands stick up on end. "Not tired," he sat up rubbing the remains of sleep from his eyes. "Can we play today?"
He had to tell him. Jim picked up Luca, placing him in his lap. The boy was so small and thin. He was a year older than Kevin had been, just as resilient, yet Luca was different. Maybe because Jim had gotten attached to him, emotional invested himself with Luca more than he had with his kids back in the day, and Luca responded, depending on him more in return. "No, Lucian, we can't play today." At his full first name, Luca looked worried. "You'll be going back to Earth to your new foster family."
Panic spread across Luca's features. "Did I do something wrong? Did I make you mad?"
"No," he said gently. "Not at all."
"Then why can't I stay with you?"
"I can't take care of you here. In a month, the Enterprise will go back into deep space. There are lots of things out there that we don't know about. It will be dangerous. I won't have the time to take care of you, and if I have to worry about your safety, I might not make the right decisions. Plus, there are no kids your age here. Right now, you need a place where you are safe, and your parent can give you all the time you need."
Luca was trying hard not to cry, steeling his expression so he would appear strong for Jim. "I understand." But he still didn't want to leave. Jim could see that, but it looked like Luca knew that eventually he would have to leave. He had just hoped, like Jim, that he could stay.
The next hour was spent in silence. Luca ate his fill of pancakes and bacon, and Jim watched, not feeling very hungry himself. He helped Luca comb his hair and get dressed and by the time they were to meet the representative in the shuttle bay, they were ready.
Luca was glued to Jim's side, holding his hand in a death grip, keeping his eyes down to avoid looking at any male officers wondering about. Jim offered to have them ordered out, but Luca said he'd handle it. Even so, Jim asked half the crew to leave to make the moment more private for them and Spock and McCoy came to say their goodbyes as well. Luca wouldn't look at McCoy, but he said his thanks, and he gave Spock a hug, saying he'd miss him.
The representative, a kind looking Andorian, greeted them. Bending down, she said gently to Luca, "It's time to go now. Have you said your goodbyes?"
Luca nodded, burying his face in Jim's sleeve. She took his hand to lead him away.
Just as she took the first few steps, Luca started to struggle against her. "No! I don't want to! Don't make me go! Jim! Jim!" His small hand reached out to Jim, tears falling as he fought the Andorian.
Jim looked on, not saying anything, not moving towards him no matter how much it hurt to watch even as the Andorian picked the boy up to carry him away. "Jim!"
He watched until Luca disappeared from view and until the shuttle was sent off safely. He didn't realize his fists were shaking. He had barely stopped himself from going after him and finding a way to somehow make it work.
"What are you all looking at?! Don't you have things to do?!" McCoy snapped at the crew members who had stopped to watch the scene unfold, chasing them away with threats of unknown hypos. Never before had Kirk been so relieved to have McCoy looking out for him.
"Are you alright?" Spock asked.
If Spock was asking about feelings, Jim knew he looked like crap, so he answered honestly, "No."
"He will be okay, Jim."
"Yeah," Jim sighed, gazing at the shuttle hanger doors for a while longer, releasing the tension in his body. "I know he will be."
Jim had found Jabari's PADD in his bag after the first week being home. The bastard must have slipped it in his bag, knowing he would die. He had promised to read his story, but was unable to bring himself to. He didn't want to be reminded of the boy.
He sat on his bed, three months after the Tarsus incident, fiddling with Maggie's doll, playing with the yarn hair carefully. It really was an ugly doll and obviously handmade. He wondered if Maggie's mom made it or some other relative.
A knock on his bedroom door didn't divert his attention from the doll. He bet Maggie would have been an artist when she grew up. She had loved to draw pictures for him, and she got creative, making things out of sticks and mud if she didn't have a surface to draw on.
The door opened, revealing Wionna. "Jim," she said softly, entering his room.
"What?" he replied.
"You have a letter."
The odd sentence grabbed his attention as he saw the physical envelope in his mother's hand. She handed it to him, and Jim stared at the unknown address. "You can go now," he dismissed her.
"Who's it from," she asked.
Jim looked up with a glare. "Shouldn't you be looking for your other son?"
Hurt flashed across Wionna's face. Normally, talking about Sam got her to leave, but her curiosity must have won over the guilt. "You can't use that against me forever."
The hell he couldn't, he thought, but even he was curious. He opened the letter.
The words were hardly legible, trademark of a child's handwriting with large bulky letters written on wide ruled paper. Still, Jim recognized the handwriting right away.
Dear Jim,
I remembered that you like paper, so I managed to get some to rite you a letter. I moved in with my uncle in Ireland. He's a lot nicer than your uncle. I wake up at night a lot. He doesn't understand much, but he tries to help. He can't really understand but he makes me good pancakes when I do to make me feel better.
I miss you. It is hard to get used to going to school, and making frends is hard. And I keep thinking about the others. I reelized that you probly miss everyone too. But I wanted to let you know so you don't worry about me. I am OK.
From,
Kevin
Jim read the last line again and again, not realizing he was crying, until his tears smeared the ink on the paper. The letter had soothed the worry in Jim's mind. He hadn't realized how frightened he was, wondering if they were okay, if they were adjusting, and if they were happy.
"Is it something bad?" his mother asked, both worried about the letters contents, but happy that Jim showed some sort of emotion.
"Get out. It's nothing."
With control that would make a Vulcan proud, he stopped his tears and acted as if nothing was wrong, turning to his computer. He waited until she had left before carefully closing the letter and placing it next to Jamie on his desk. He ordered some paper online so he could send Kevin a reply and a stationary set to send to the boy since paper was kind of expensive for an seven year old child, and drafted his response on the computer.
Calm washed over Jim for the first time since the outbreak started six months ago. A letter from a small boy who had fought beside him, who he had cared for, was what he needed. He had needed proof that he had done something right, that all the heartache and nightmares was worth it. That he wasn't just a horrible person.
Saving the draft, he leaned back in his computer chair, glancing at Jabari's PADD. He had promised to read it. He wondered if hehad finished it. With shaking hands, he connected the device to his computer to download the document since the screen was broken beyond repair. Within five minutes, the document was up on the monitor, and Jim began reading.
Dedicated to Jim, the man who will one day make even the stars his.
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