Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek

There were only a few things that Jim actively hated in this universe.

Kodos. Tarsus. Nero. Frank. And Riverside.

Frank and Nero were both dead, and he had no reason to ever go back to Tarsus. Kodos had been declared dead by Starfleet years ago – the truth was all relative, after all, but Jim didn't really have the energy or the inclination to dispute their claims. It wouldn't do to start making waves over something that he, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't have any knowledge of or reason to demand the truth.

Which left Riverside. Logically, he knew that fearing a town was stupid, especially when there was really nothing to fear from going back there. Anyone he may have wanted to avoid was gone.

But damn it, he hated the place. Riverside held so many horrible memories for him. Memories of his mother being unable and unwilling to look at him, of his stepfather pushing him around, beating him up. Frank's buddies who liked to watch, and more often than not, join in. Sam leaving.

So yeah, Jim had a lot of reasons to not want to set foot in that small town ever again. And he wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for Komack.

Jim really wished Jon and Richard would hurry it up and get Chris to take over as the Admiral in charge of the Enterprise. It would just make things much easier. Jim already told Chris pretty much everything anyway; the only difference would be that, being in charge, Chris would be able to sign off and the reports wouldn't have to go any higher up the ladder. Win-win, right?

Except for the fact that Komack had his heels dug down and he was desperate to keep the control he had. Admiral in charge of the flagship had a nice little ring to it. Not to mention the extras – clearance level was higher, it gave you more freedom, and a more exalted position, if you really wanted to use it.

And Komack definitely did. Jim didn't talk to Jon and Richard much about their quiet battle for control, but he knew that Komack was neck deep in something, and Jim doubted he'd like whatever it was.

Having control of the flagship must be getting Komack something, or he wouldn't be fighting so hard against giving it up.

But none of those thoughts were helping Jim now, as he surveyed the shipyard in Riverside. He kept telling himself he was here to do a job, and he would have no need to go into town, or any cause to potentially see someone he would rather avoid.

He worked at the shipyard, he ate at the shipyard, he slept at the shipyard.

There was simply no reason for him to leave. Sure, if he had wanted some variety in his culinary choices, he could have ventured outside the safety of the shipyard, but he didn't think the benefits outweighed the risks. So he stayed. It wasn't like there was that much variety in town, anyway.

Three days, and he still hadn't left. He would have gone longer, if it weren't for the shuttle that showed up late on Friday afternoon.

Jim had been finishing up a discussion with the head of the design team, Lieutenant Commander Nash, and the head of the Riverside Shipyard, Commander Peterson, when the last shuttle of the day arrived.

Lieutenant Hollins interrupted the three men as they were making plans to meet up again the next day, and politely informed Jim that he had visitors.

Confused, the Captain followed the Lieutenant outside, and then stopped in his tracks, startled, to see his command crew – minus his Security Chief, whom he liked well enough, but wasn't exactly friends with – standing in front of him, all wearing smug expressions.

Jim shook his head as he started walking again, coming to a stop as he reached the small group clustered near the shuttle they had just disembarked from. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked, looking to Bones for an answer.

Leonard shrugged agreeably. "We thought we'd come out for the weekend. Surely you can take some time off, right?"

Jim looked at each of them, taking in their eager and excited expressions, though if he looked beyond that, he could also detect a hint of concern. He knew that Bones was aware of how hard it was being back in Riverside, and if Uhura remembered their conversation from the bar right before he had joined up, she would also remember that he had told her he was from here. Spock might also be aware of his hometown, if he had read through Jim's file completely, something Jim had no doubt of.

But the only one who would really know what it meant was Bones, which indicated that the concern the rest were feeling had more to do with current events, rather than fear for what the past might do to him.

After a minute, Jim sighed in defeat. "Fine," he acquiesced. "Just give me a minute."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned around and headed back inside. Peterson and Nash were still inside, and Jim confirmed that they would see each other the next morning, before he returned to his friends. Plastering on a smile that he hoped looked genuine, he said, "So, what did you have in mind?"

Uhura grinned. "Well, if memory serves, there's a decent bar not too far away. Remember?"

Jim sighed, while the rest looked on in confusion.

Sulu smiled. "I could do with a drink."

"Aye, that sounds pretty good to me," Scotty chimed in.

McCoy watched Jim closely, and could see the hesitation hidden in the younger man's eyes. He wished Jim would just speak out and say something, but he knew that would never happen.

So he wasn't surprised when Jim nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

As a group, they all headed towards the security lot, where Jim pointed them to one of the vehicles, pulling out a set of keys he had gotten from Peterson. "It's ours for the night," he informed them.

They all piled in, and Jim took the wheel, heading out of the shipyard and down the familiar road towards the bar that made up a good portion of the entire town center. Though he hadn't been here in years, he hadn't forgotten. Everything was pretty much exactly as it had been when he had left. The small corner market was still located across the street from the bar, right next to the one and only café in town.

The tiny repair shop was just down the street, across from the school.

Beyond that, the road let out of town; if Jim kept going, he would reach his old home.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts as he pulled into the parking lot at the bar, and followed his friends inside.

There were a decent amount of people there, considering it was a Friday night, though there was still enough room for Jim and the others to wind their way through the crowd to a table near the back.

Jim took drink orders, and then quickly slipped through the crowd towards the bar.

Leonard watched him go, concerned. Over the last few years, ever since meeting his best friend, he had gotten much better at reading people – he had to, if he wanted to keep up with Jim. Being able to tell when Jim was a little upset, or actually angry, had saved him many a broken table. It also came in handy when he needed to know if the idiot was just bruised, or if something was actually broken. Jim Kirk had the weirdest response to pain – in simple terms, it was almost like he just didn't feel it.

The worst part was, McCoy thought he knew why.

It was because he knew the wayward Captain so well that he could see how much this outing, and the whole trip to Riverside, was affecting him. McCoy really hoped they could get through this without something happening. Knowing their track record though, he doubted it.

None of the others seemed to be too worried about their Captain, beyond hoping he wouldn't forget any of their orders.

Pavel, of course, reminded them of the older man's eidetic memory, while Sulu smirked. "I think there's more of a chance that he'll just switch a few things up on purpose. Spock, you might end up with a chocolate martini, rather than water."

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow as he observed the pilot. "The Captain is aware of my predilection for a nonalcoholic beverage; I do not believe he will disregard my preference this evening."

Scotty snorted. "I think Sulu's just hoping you'll be itchin' to get as drunk as the rest of us."

Spock turned his gaze to the engineer. "Alcohol does not affect Vulcans the way it does humans, Mr. Scott. It would be impossible for me to 'get drunk', as you say."

"That's why it'd be a chocolate martini," Uhura pitched in, smiling at her boyfriend. "Come on Spock, just one?"

Spock felt himself wavering, and knew that his girlfriend could get him to agree to just about anything, if she really pressed.

Finally, he inclined his head, just once. "I will consider it."

Uhura grinned, and the others chuckled, before Scotty began regaling them with news of the Enterprise's upgrades.

At the bar, Jim perched near one end, waiting until the bartender noticed him. He was pretty busy at the other end of the bar for the moment, so Jim was content to wait his turn.

It took a few minutes, but eventually the man turned in his direction, stopped, did a double take, and then quickly made his way down the bar with a large grin on his face.

"Jim!" he held out one hand, and Jim shook it, smiling softly.

"Hey, Jerry," he replied. "How's it going?"

Jerry shrugged, reaching under the bar to grab a glass, his other hand going for a bottle of beer; he knew what Jim liked. Even if it had been years since the last time he had seen the kid, he still remembered. "Same old, same old. But what are you doing back here? It's been, what, four years? Five?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah. You know how it goes, life's been busy."

Jerry smirked. "I can imagine. You've got that shiny starship to keep you occupied. It was pretty awesome for us to see you all over the news after that mess last year."

Jim rolled his eyes, successfully conveying his disbelief. Most of this town thought he was a screw-up. They'd never believe him capable of doing anything right, no matter how much he tried to prove them wrong.

Knowing what he was thinking, Jerry sighed. "Hey, not all of us bought into your stepfather's bile. You've still got people here who care about you." Jim shifted uncomfortably, and Jerry smiled. "Your dad's family has lived here a long time, and a lot of people remember that."

Jim shrugged. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm here with some friends, so I've got a list."

Jerry nodded, and began preparing the drinks that Jim requested.

The Captain leaned against the bar as he waited for the drinks. Jerry placed them all on a tray, hesitating briefly before he pushed it towards the younger man. He opened his mouth to speak, when they were interrupted.

McCoy pushed himself in between Jim and the couple making out on the other side of him. "Thought you might want some help carrying that," he said unceremoniously.

Jim glanced over at the doctor and snorted. "You mean Scotty was getting impatient and you decided to diffuse the situation by coming over to see what was taking so long."

McCoy shrugged, and Jim chuckled.

Jerry pushed the tray forward. "It was good to see you again, Jim. I'm glad you're doing well." Jim smiled, and took out a credit chip, but Jerry shook his head. "This round's on the house."

Jim raised an eyebrow, but put the chip away. "Thanks."

McCoy took the tray, and the two headed back to their table, passing out the drinks.

For a while, things seemed to be going well. The group of friends relaxed, and spent the time talking about their more unusual adventures, and speculating on what would come when they left Earth once more. They commiserated on their ventures into teaching, bemoaning the fact that most of the Cadets looked at them as near-gods; yes, they were the command crew of Starfleet's flagship, and yes, they had saved Earth and the Federation by stopping Nero, but did all these kids have to look at them like starstruck teenagers?

It was several rounds later, and Jim was thinking he might actually be able to get through this evening, when the universe just had to prove once more that it had it out for him.

Jim was mid-laugh over a joke that Scotty was telling the group – something about two engineers, some moonshine, and a Jeffries tube. It probably wouldn't have been nearly as funny if they weren't all on their fourth round. Even Spock had given into his girlfriend's pleading and ordered a chocolate martini.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't little Jimmy Kirk." The nasally voice came from a hulking figure looming behind Sulu. His beady eyes were fixed on Jim, who stiffened as soon as the man began to speak.

The others glanced at the stranger, confused, while Jim worked quickly to get himself under control. When he was sure he had himself in check, he took a breath. "Mills."

The man – Mills – just leered disturbingly, and Jim had to force himself not to lean back.

McCoy immediately turned his attention to his friend. He didn't know who this man was, but clearly he wasn't someone Jim liked. He reached over and rested a hand lightly on Jim's lower arm, making sure to keep the motion out of sight underneath the table, so no one else could see. Jim didn't make any sign, but McCoy knew he appreciated it. That was the strength of their relationship: they didn't have to actually speak to show that they cared, or to understand each other.

Mills looked around at the group, threw a suggestive wink in Uhura's direction, and then turned back to Jim. "I didn't think we'd ever see you again, Jimmy. I hear you're a big war hero now."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "What do you want, Mills?"

Mills smirked. "But then, all those Starfleet idiots never saw you when you were just a pitiful sniveling weakling. You didn't look like much of a hero then, did you?" Jim's jaw clenched, but he didn't speak. Mills' smirk widened. "It's hard to look heroic when you're cowering in a corner, isn't that right, Jimmy? You used to beg, didn't you."

Jim abruptly stood up and walked away, trying to ignore the sound of Mills' laugh ringing in his ears as he quickly weaved through the crowd to the door.

Mills chuckled sadistically. "Never will amount to anything, that boy." He glanced back at Uhura. "How many times did you have to screw him before he gave you your job?"

Uhura reared back in her seat, not expecting such a crude presumption. Spock was out of his seat and giving the man a nerve pinch before the others could even register the movement.

McCoy blinked quickly, and then glanced at the now silent bar. Unfortunately, Jim was already gone. "Shit," he muttered.

Scotty and Sulu were already dragging the unconscious stranger towards the back door. McCoy turned to the bartender, who was staring at Mills with a look of pure contempt. "We going to run into any issues here?"

Jerry shook his head quickly, while the other patrons slowly turned back to their drinks. "Not from anyone here. Mills has been nothing but trouble since he moved to town twenty years ago. You want to kill him, it'll be no great loss to society."

McCoy nodded, pursing his lips. He didn't think they would go that far, but it was a tempting option. Rather than respond, he followed Chekov, Uhura, and Spock outside, where they met up with Scotty and Sulu.

They were smirking, self-satisfied expressions adorning their faces. "We left him in the dumpster out back," Sulu informed them.

"Good," McCoy snarled, his eyes snapping with anger.

Uhura looked at the doctor worriedly. "Leonard? Who was that man?"

McCoy shrugged. "I don't know. But he clearly knew Jim."

"Yeah, how does that work?" Sulu asked, confused. "What are the odds of someone knowing Jim just happening to choose the same bar in some random town in the Midwest?"

The door opened once more, cutting off their conversation. McCoy nodded a stoic greeting as the bartender joined them. He wasn't sure how this man knew Jim, but it seemed to be a cordial relationship, or at least, a better one than that man, Mills.

"Sorry, I only have a minute. If you're going to try and find Jim, maybe try the Kirk farmhouse, just outside of town. Follow the main road, you can't miss it. If not there, try the overlook."

Jerry gave them a quick nod, and turned to head back inside. It was Friday night after all, and the bar was quite busy.

Sulu frowned. "What did he mean, the Kirk farmhouse?"

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "Jim grew up here."

"Wait, seriously?" the pilot was surprised, and judging by the expressions on Chekov's and Scotty's faces, they were as well.

Uhura looked more contemplative, as she remembered the conversation she had had with Jim in this very bar, the night she had met him. He had mentioned something about a family situation, and that thankfully he didn't live around here anymore. She hadn't read too much into it at the time, but now she was recalling that moment, and wondering just how much she had missed by not really paying attention.

McCoy grimaced and nodded in answer to Sulu's surprise. "He left when he was fourteen. I think he's only been back once or twice since then. Riverside, it… doesn't have the best memories."

Spock frowned minutely. "It would appear that the Captain has chosen to walk, as our transport is still parked where we left it."

McCoy sighed. "Let's see if we can find the idiot before he hurts himself."

XXX

Just like the bartender had said, the Kirk farmhouse was impossible to miss.

Or rather, there was a farmhouse sitting on the road leading outside of town; it was the only building they could see, but the only reason they knew it was the right place was because of the decrepit mailbox out front. It said 'Kirk' in peeling gold letters on one side, which was how they knew they had found the right place. It gave off an antiquated feel, considering mailboxes hadn't really been used in over a hundred years, not since PADDs and electronic technology had taken off. The fact that this house still had a mailbox indicated it had been standing for at least a hundred, and more likely a hundred and fifty years, minimum.

Unfortunately, it didn't look like anybody had been there in years.

Still, though, McCoy guided the transport through the gate and down the driveway.

When he turned off the transport, the silence became oppressing as they sat there in the dark for a few moments.

Finally, Sulu cleared his throat. "Should we go in?"

They all piled out of the transport, and hesitantly made their way to the door.

Pavel pushed it open gently, and the loud creak of a door that hadn't been maintained in years filled the air.

"Am I the only one who feels guilty?" Sulu asked, as they all looked around the dust-covered living room.

Scotty and Pavel shook their heads slowly, while McCoy just scowled, Spock looked the same as always, and Uhura's feelings were evident on her face.

"It would appear that this residence has been empty for some time," Spock observed neutrally.

McCoy glanced at the Vulcan, and nodded. "No one's lived here in about four years. Not since his stepfather died."

They all looked at the doctor, but McCoy just shrugged.

Scotty cleared his throat. "Maybe we should take a look around, just in case? We might find something to hint at where Jim went?"

McCoy wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea, but he didn't say anything, as Sulu and Uhura took the stairs up to the second floor, Spock and Chekov a few steps behind, likely heading to the attic.

The doctor just looked around the living room, while Scotty went to poke around the kitchen.

He supposed the place might have been nice, once upon a time. Now, it just looked like a dump. There was at least two inches of dust on every surface, and several empty beer bottles strewn about the floor.

It gave off the sad vibe of a former occupant who hadn't cared about upkeep.

Still, as McCoy looked around, he couldn't help but see the scratches on the wall, and nicks on the coffee table. There was broken glass in several corners, and broken furniture along the far wall. He couldn't help but wonder if those scratches were from Frank knocking Jim around. If the broken glass was from Frank throwing bottles at Jim's head. If the furniture had broken when Frank threw Jim into it. Logically, he knew that Jim had left this place more than ten years ago, so the broken glass probably wasn't aimed at him, and the furniture may have been broken more recently, but his mind just kept imagining worst-case scenarios.

He had never questioned Jim after their conversation a year ago, not wanting to pry. He and Jim were good friends, but he was under no illusions that if he pressed too hard, he would lose one of the best things to ever happen to him.

XXX

Uhura and Sulu stopped on the second floor, while Spock and Pavel continued on up one more level.

Both could feel the oppressive atmosphere around them, and were hesitant to say anything, to shatter the uncertain calm.

They poked their heads in several doors, but it wasn't until Sulu's soft, "Uhura," that the communications expert really stopped to look.

The pilot was standing at the entrance to what the Communications expert presumed to be a bedroom, at the end of the hall. He glanced back at her, and then jerked his head, before walking inside.

Following him, Uhura noted that she was correct.

The room itself was simple: a bed, a desk, a dresser. And the ever-present layer of dust. Sulu turned back to look at his colleague and friend. His eyes were wide. "I think this was Jim's room." He pointed to the desk, where there were a couple photographs still displayed, covered in dust.

Uhura picked one picture up and wiped the dust off. The image underneath showed an older man, with a kid, approximately seven or eight, and a toddler, maybe two or three. They were all standing in front of a slick red, old-fashioned car – the kind with wheels and that probably still ran on gas. With a start, Uhura realized that she knew the older man. She held the photo out to Sulu. "Look at this."

Sulu turned towards the picture, and shared in Uhura's surprise. "That's Admiral Pike."

Uhura nodded. "I didn't realize they had known each other so long."

Sulu shrugged. "Jim's not exactly open about his past, so I guess I'm not all that shocked."

Uhura almost put the photo back, but the kids in it looked so happy, and Pike looked ecstatic, so she took it out of the frame and stuck it in her pocket. She wondered who that other kid was; she recognized Jim's bright blue gaze in the young toddler in Pike's arms, but who was the older boy?

A cursory glance at the other photo on the desk had her adding that to her pocket as well. She recognized Pike again, as well as the same strange boy from the first photo, along with a man and a woman she recognized immediately as George and Winona Kirk. Winona was clearly pregnant, and the family looked so happy, that Nyota just had to take the picture with her.

Realizing how much time they had spent in their search, the two quickly left the room and headed back downstairs.

XXX

Pavel and Spock stopped at the top level of the farmhouse; there was only one door on the landing, and opening it showed a cluttered and disused attic.

Pavel poked around a few boxes, but Spock was content to just look. His keen eyes noted several awards piled on an old table, as well as what looked like old photo albums spilling out of a few boxes on the floor.

Pavel went over to the table, and wiped the dust off. He turned back to the Commander, blue eyes wide. "These belonged to George Kirk."

Spock inclined his head. "It would be logical for such commendations to be stored by the late Captain's family." Pavel nodded slowly, and placed the award back down.

"Spock?"

The hesitant call made its way through the open door, and Spock turned towards his the sound of his girlfriend's voice.

"Ensign Chekov, we should endeavor to return to the others."

Pavel nodded, and followed the Commander back down the stairs.

McCoy looked at them wearily as they arrived. "We should just head back to the shipyard," he said softly. "That's the most likely place we'll find Jim."

He knew it was true, too. They wouldn't have found Jim here; the kid had left this home over ten years ago. He would never willingly go back. McCoy may not know much, but he knew that.

Silently, they all piled back into the transport, and left the rundown old house.

McCoy tried to focus on the road leading back to the shipyard, but he couldn't help but feel his attention drift. It was fortunate that Spock was driving, he had to admit.

The Vulcan's expression was as neutral as McCoy had ever seen it – though he didn't make it a habit to study the Commander, he could at least see that the man had softened a little since the start of their mission a year earlier. Spock hadn't been quite at rigid as McCoy suspected he had been before meeting Uhura and Jim.

The doctor frowned as they went around a bend and a broken fence came into view. If he squinted, he thought he could make out a small figure in the distance. Deciding that he should take a leaf out of Jim's book and go with his gut, he cleared his throat. "Spock." The Vulcan turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. McCoy jerked his head towards the dusty service road. "Down there."

Spock frowned minutely. "Do you have a visual on the Captain?"

McCoy shrugged, while the others in the back seat all perked up and looked out the window. "Call it a hunch." The bartender had mentioned an 'overlook', and this seemed like it might fit the description.

Spock's frown didn't disappear, but it was a testament to how much he had connected with his human side under the guidance of Nyota and Jim, that he didn't question it any further, and simply eased the transport through the broken gate, and down the road.

As they pulled closer, McCoy could see an abrupt drop off at the end of the dirt road. With a start, he remembered a shocking story Jim had told him years ago, about how he had driven a car off of a cliff when he had been twelve years old. Morbidly, he wondered if the car was still sitting at the bottom of this ravine. There was what appeared to be a small figure sitting off to one side, just in front of the drop-off.

The doctor's hunch appeared to be correct; as Spock guided the transport closer, it became obvious that the small figure was in fact their wayward Captain. He was leaning back on his elbows, facing the ravine, but as they piled out of the transport, it was pretty obvious to all of them that he wasn't really seeing the view in front of him.

McCoy gestured for the others to stay back, as he cautiously approached his best friend. He tried to make some noise so that Jim wouldn't be startled, but it looked like the Captain was miles away in thought.

It wasn't until McCoy was right next to the younger man that Jim finally acknowledged him. "Hey, Bones." His gaze remained fixed on the drop off just three feet in front of him.

Bones winced at the idea of being just feet away from plummeting to his death, but held his ground. "Jim. You wanna back up just a little?"

Jim snorted softly. "It's not like I haven't gotten closer."

McCoy winced at the reminder. After a moment of silence, Jim sighed and sat up, curling his legs up to his chest. His shoulders slumped minutely, and McCoy immediately took a seat. He jerked his hand in a sort-of wave, and the rest of the command crew arranged themselves on the ground around the two men.

Jim waited for someone to speak, but no one made any move to do so, as the silence stretched on.

It was… nice. Strange, but nice.

The group sat quietly for nearly five minutes before Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't like to come back here," he admitted softly.

He saw them all turn to look at him, though he made no move to take his focus from the drop off.

He bit his lip self-consciously. "If it weren't for the shipyard being located here, I'd happily never come back at all."

Uhura hesitantly took the pictures she had found out of her pocket. "I found these," she said quietly, guiltily.

Jim took the photos, surprised. "You went to my father's house?"

McCoy and Uhura, at least, recognized the meaning of the clarification Jim used – that the farmhouse was his father's. Not his, not his parents' or his mother's or stepfather's.

Sulu shrugged slightly. "The bartender suggested looking for you there. I don't think most of us knew you actually grew up here, so it was kind of a shock."

Jim pursed his lips, his focus still on the pictures in his hands. The one of him, Chris, and Sam was on top. He vaguely remembered this visit; Chris had taken him and Sam out for a day. Winona had been busy planning for her upcoming wedding to Frank, and Chris had offered to babysit. They had taken a picnic, and spent the whole day driving around.

"The farmhouse belonged to my dad's family, going back about ten generations. My grandparents gave it to my parents as a wedding present," the Captain said absentmindedly. He let out a short breath of air, a noise that could almost be termed a chuckle. "Chris used to bring us here. It's an amazing view when it's clear. You can see for miles."

Looking around, the rest of them could see how it would be a great place to visit under the right circumstances. This evening, however, it was cloudy, without much of a view of the stars that they all spent so much time traveling amongst.

"I did not realize that your relationship with Admiral Pike stretched so far," Spock commented idly, just a hint of concern detectible in the stilted words. He of course remembered the conversation he had had with Captain Kirk when he had relinquished command of the Enterprise before they pursued Nero and the Narada, so he was aware that the Captain had known Admiral Pike as a teenager; but he hadn't realized they had been acquainted before Tarsus.

Jim shrugged. "I've told you before that he and my dad were best friends. He used to visit a lot. When I was three, my mother remarried, and told him to stop coming around." He snorted sardonically. "Actually, I think she told him to stay the hell away from her family, but the result was the same."

McCoy frowned. Jim hadn't said much, but the pieces were falling into place even more than before; fragments of the younger man's life, standing out with startling clarity. "How did you reconnect?" he asked curiously.

Jim suddenly looked guarded. Something about McCoy's question seemed to have put his hackles up. "I spent some time off planet when I was a teenager. We ran into each other when I was fourteen, and he offered me a place to stay if I ever needed it. I spent a lot of nights crashing in his guest room."

His tone clearly told them that he wouldn't answer any more questions about that time in his life, so the group descended into silence once more.

It was nearly twenty minutes later when Jim finally shook himself off and stood up, groaning as he worked the kinks out of his back. Following his lead, the others stood as well, and began to make their way back to the transport.

McCoy and Jim brought up the rear; the doctor rested a hand lightly on Jim's arm. He said nothing, simply leveled a questioning gaze at his friend. The lines around Jim's eyes softened, and he nodded slightly.

McCoy's gaze narrowed, and Jim rolled his eyes, one side of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile.

McCoy raised an eyebrow, and Jim shook his head, just once.

The doctor let out a huff, and got in the transport, Jim following silently.

The rest of the group looked a little nonplussed at the strange communication, but didn't comment as they all took their seats, and Spock carefully maneuvered the transport back down the dirt road, and back to the shipyard.

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