Chapter 16

"Maybe we should get masks," Jim said as they sped away from the small town. "That way, if we ever have to deal with civilization again, we can be all kinds of inconspicious."

Spock merely shot him a glance before returning his gaze out the window. Jim deflated a little and wildly grasped around for another topic. Spock seemed to be more shaken up by their encounter with the hysterical women than was really warranted. But then, Jim wasn't a touch telepath, so he wasn't really sure what kind of unwanted information Spock had gleaned from their adoring fans.

Then again, maybe it wasn't the touch telepathy at all. Spock could just have a general aversion to touch. Heck, even some humans didn't like being around other people. Just because not everyone needed a constant physical connection with people didn't mean that something was inherently wrong with him. But Jim found that he couldn't relate to it at all. He liked touching others - resting his hand on someone's shoulder, a friendly slap on the arm, throwing an arm around someone in a friendly embrace. It was natural for Jim to show physical affection to those around him and it was sometimes hard to remember that not everyone appreciated it.

Jim sighed and decided to let Spock sit in peace. So it was a surprise to him when Spock decided to start talking.

"I have never been outside of San Francisco," he said quietly, staring out the window with an avid interest. Jim glanced at him before returning his gaze to the road.

"What?" he exclaimed. Spock had been on Earth for at least eight years, probably more. It was crazy that he hadn't taken the time to explore his new surroundings. Not that Jim really blamed him, seeing as he hadn't really traveled much outside of Iowa, but Jim had traveled at least a little bit. But not enough to actually count.

"I was always occupied with the Academy and never had the time to travel outside of the city," Spock explained, tearing his eyes away from the scenery to look at Jim. "Also, my physiology is not so well adjusted to the cooler temperatures that is common in most regions on this planet."

Oh. Those were pretty good reasons, actually. He hadn't realized how different the temperature was for Spock, although he probably should have guessed based off of Spock's higher body temperature. Jim almost laughed at himself. Thinking logically did have its moments. Not that he would ever let Spock know that.

"I haven't really been outside of Iowa or San Francisco, either," Jim admitted, glancing at Spock again. A small smile tugged at his lips and he quickly refocused his attention to the road. He didn't need Spock realizing how much enjoyment he gained from looking at his ears. Especially in certain lights when they kinda glowed...

Damn. He really needed to focus on not focusing on Spock.

A comfortable silence fell between the two men. Although they had only been on their shore leave for a day, Jim could already tell that this was going to be a relaxing vacation. Or, at least as relaxing as James T. Kirk could manage.

After driving a few more miles, Jim began to look for places to pull over so they could start their hiking excursion. He found a place where there were a few other cars parked, which meant that there were probably some decent trails around. Plus, it was always good to have other people around when you were as accident prone as Jim was. Even if it meant putting up with a few adoring fans. Although, Jim had a feeling that those old ladies were the exception, not the rule. Or at least he could hope so.

He quickly parked and got out of the car, Spock following, shortly behind him. He stretched out and looked around. "Can't you just feel the excitement?" Jim asked, a laugh hiding behind his voice.

Spock merely raised his eyebrow and followed Jim as he headed over to a map that gave details about the various trails. After a quick analyzation, Jim pointed off to their right, indicating that the two mile hike/walk would be best. Spock nodded his approval and they both set off on their exploration.

As they walked, they talked. Jim found that he was pleasantly surprised at how easily conversation flowed between the two of them. Not that it was ever really forced, but they usually talked about the Enterprise and their missions and Starfleet. It was nice to just get to know each other on a more personal level without the onslaught of emotional outpouring.

For example, Jim learned that Spock's favorite color was red ("A favorite color is illogical, Jim."). He liked the smell of cucumbers ("My mother's soap smelled of cucumber."). His favorite book was a collection of Grimm's Fairy Tales ("It was a gift for my seventh birthday from my mother."). Each new thing that he learned was invigorating for Jim, and it felt as if he was being given a little gift each time he discovered something new.

And Jim felt comforted by the thought that Spock was getting to know him as well, although Jim was much better at just offering up information. Getting Spock to admit to preferences of any kind was like pulling teeth, but worse. Everything was illogical or immature. But it didn't matter. Jim was just happy to be with Spock. And he didn't even care about how corny that sounded.

Before long, they had finished their first walk without any incident and had decided that it would be fun to try another trail. This trail took them by a few interesting plants that Spock decided that he wanted to analyze. Jim rolled his eyes, but didn't really mind stopping. It just gave him a chance to openly stare at his first officer without getting caught. Plus, the sight of him bending over was a big bonus. Jim smirked

"Well, look who it is," a voice behind them said. "It's Jimmy." Jim froze and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. His blood ran cold while simultaneously burning in a stifling rage. That voice...it was far too familiar. Like from a reoccurring nightmare that he couldn't wake up from, haunting him. A voice from the past, long forgotten or repressed, Jim didn't know, instantly brought back to his memories to resume some form of torment.

Jim turned around slowly, vaguely aware that Spock was looking at him intently with a raised eyebrow. Sure enough, he was met with the sight of a tall man with features that were shockingly similar to his own. He looked up and met the eyes of a stranger he once knew. A stranger he once loved. A stranger who had betrayed him, abandoned him, left him behind.

"Sam," Jim said, his tone flat.

"Small world, ain't it?" Sam Kirk responded, a hint of sarcasm coloring his voice.

"Too small," Jim muttered, never taking his eyes off of his brother as he walked closer to him and Spock. Determinedly, Jim stood his ground, even when Sam threatened to encroach on his personal space. He had never expected to see his brother again, not after he had walked away from him, leaving him alone with a stepfather who hated him and a mother who saw ghosts when he smiled.

"Don't go," an eleven year old boy said, sitting on his brother's bed, watching him pack all of his worldly possessions into a ratty backpack.

Instead, his brother ignored him, shoving an unfolded shirt in before glancing around one last time and zipping up the backpack. He slung it over his shoulder and walked out the door, not looking back.

Jim stood up and raced after him, trailing him down the stairs and out the front door, muttering promises that he knew he would never be able to keep. But if it got Sam to stop and stay, he would try his best. He'd be a better brother. He'd stop stealing his action figures. He'd try not to make Frank so mad. He'd do all the chores. He'd even stop sneaking into his room when he was out.

But Sam didn't stay. And Jim stopped caring.

"So, Starfleet, huh?" Sam asked, his voice dripping with condescension. Apparently he wasn't into catching up or small talk. "What happened? Lose a bet?"

Jim shook his head wearily. "What do you mean," he asked, knowing damn well where this was going.

Sam simply laughed, a harsh cruel sound and took to circling around Jim, like a vulture. Jim held his ground once again, fighting back the urge to flinch when he casually brought his arm around Jim's shoulder in a faux show of affection. "We hated Starfleet," he hissed, bringing his face close to Jim's. "We were against everything it stood for, everything about it." He paused, glaring at Jim, his grip tightening on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Things changed," Jim said cryptically, shrugging off Sam's arm. "I changed."

Sam laughed again, the same laugh that couldn't really be called that. "You changed?" he scoffed, disbelieving. "What makes you so special?" he sneered. "You're still the same kid you always were." Jim didn't say anything, staring resolutely forward, refusing to give any sign that his brother's words had any affect on him. Sam, apparently, didn't that much, and suddenly he was back in Jim's face. "Who are you, anyway?"

Jim hesitated. It had been years since he had felt so insecure about himself, years since he had needed to face his past in more than his dreams. And once again, he was that scared, sad little boy, begging his mom not to leave again, pleading with his brother to stay.

"He is James T. Kirk," Spock spoke up from behind him, hands tucked neatly behind his back, "Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise."

As if that explained everything. And maybe it did. Maybe it was enough. Either way, Jim looked back at his first officer and smiled slightly, reassured by the calming presence that he found in the stoic half-Vulcan. A small flutter went down Jim's spine. Knowing that he had Spock's support meant more to him than it probably should, but Jim couldn't bring himself to care.

Sam looked surprised momentarily from Spock's input, but quickly shook it off. "As if that means anything," he scoffed.

"It means everything," Jim said, his voice suddenly full of authority. It had been all the reminder that he needed. He wasn't that little boy, not anymore. He had moved past that, had become stronger than the memory that constantly threatened to bring him down. He was a captain now, the youngest Starfleet had ever seen, and had accomplished more than most people could in three lifetimes. Everyone has a past. There was no need to let what once happened hurt what was happening now.

Sam took a step back, looking Jim up and down appraisingly. "Maybe you have changed," he muttered, but it didn't sound like a compliment. Jim bit back a series of insults that sprang to his tongue and instead shook his head and took a step closer to Spock, his way of backing out of an awkward situation.

Spock took the cue and said, "Captain, we have a previous engagement that we will be late to if we do not take our leave now."

If Jim hadn't been playing along, he would have stared at his first officer in surprise. Spock never lied. He was half-Vulcan. He was supposed to be incapable of lying. Then again, Spock Prime had technically lied (implied his ass).

"Oh yeah," Jim said, nodding, clapping him on the shoulder before he remembered that it made Spock uncomfortable. "Well, I hate to run, but we really should be going."

Sam merely nodded, stilling scrutinizing him, before turning around and continuing down the path. Jim watched him for a moment before turning and walking in the opposite direction without any warning. It only took a moment for Spock to catch up, and Jim could tell that Spock was just bursting with unasked questions.

For once, Jim found that he was grateful that Spock wasn't one to pry into other people's business. However, Jim also knew that he was fairly nosy and he probably owed Spock some type of explanation.

"That was my brother, Sam," Jim said shortly, not slowing his pace as he talked. "He left when I was eleven."

Spock nodded in acknowledgment, and let the silence between them grow, clearly expecting Jim to say more. But he didn't press and Jim didn't offer any more.

A.N.
Sorry that this is short and that it took forever. I hit a massive writers block and this was the worst month ever. Ugh. It was horrible. Thanks for reading though. I would greatly appreciate suggestions at this point in time or any advice. Or criticism. Yeah. Thanks.