Komihn Vre-Katra
Title: Komihn Vre-Katra
Chapter: One
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: Death, child abuse, eventual swearing and sexing, violent actions and eventual slash.
Status: Work In Progress
Summary: Jim is special. He knows he is special, and has been right from birth. In fact, he doesn’t even know why. But sometimes, visions of a red planet pass through his dreams. On that planet there is sand and heat and he feels homesick.
Prologue | Chapter One
Stardate 2234.56, Riverside, Iowa
Life in Riverside is quiet.
The hustle and bustle of working in space has long been over for Winona Kirk, but anywhere would be better than quiet, peaceful, boring Riverside. The only reason she’s stayed so long is because of her kids. She loves them, and when they’re young and impressionable they need a mother.
But she’s trapped; Trapped in the house that belonged to her husband and is filled with his family history. Every day she’s faced with photographs of the cherished moments in his life. It’s depressing. Yet each day she gets up, puts a smile on her face and moves on. She has to do it, for her children.
Winona sipped her coffee and scrolled through the data padd on her lap. Although she doesn’t go out into space anymore, she still works for Starfleet from home. When she’s lucky enough she can keep the boys busy for a few hours with toys or holovids and do some work. Now is one of those times.
Baby Jim is napping on a blanket on the living room floor and Sam is colouring away with some old crayons, talking to himself about dogs and horses. They’re both beautiful children and she’s more than thankful that they’re so perfect and healthy. She loves them more than anything, cherishes the remnants of her dead husband. They look like George, almost carbon copies and she knows that when they’re older they’ll be heart breakers.
She sighs when she realises she’s been left heartbroken - but in a totally different context.
But for all that they were like their father, the boys couldn’t be more different from each other. Sam is a wild child - always up to something, making a mess, throwing tantrums, screaming or running around. Little Jim is calm, gentle and quiet. She knows he’ll be the level-headed child in the future. He always silently surveys his surroundings and never fusses.
Winona’s thoughts drifted from her children back to the data padd in her lap. The reports on bimolecular kinetics in plant species on Invernia II could not wait. She reviewed the reports, scoffing at spelling mistakes and errors in judgement from an obviously inexperienced science officer. Really, did she have to go up there and smack some sense into the man that wrote it?
She sighed again. She can’t go back into space, not yet at least. Winona placed the data padd on the couch beside her and finished her coffee. She could rest now and finish her work after dinner. So she packed away her things and headed into the kitchen to clean her dishes. She hummed a gentle tune under her breathe. Then she stopped and enjoyed the silence of the house.
‘Silence…’ she frowned.
She hurried back into the living room and glanced at Jim. He’s still sleeping. She looks for Sam. He’s not at the table colouring. Winona groaned and a sliver of panic shot through her veins.
“Sammy!” she called, “Where are you sweetie?”
Hearing a shuffled thud, she sighs with relief when she realises he is still inside the house - only upstairs. Walking up the creaky stairs, she comes across her oldest son, red crayon in hand and drawing on the walls.
“What are you doing, you silly boy?” she tried to stay stern, but amusement leaked through her tone of voice.
With a toothy grin, Sam scribbled again on the wall and replied, “Painting the house!”
Winona chuckled, “Painting the house. Oh darling, the house doesn’t need to be painted!”
Sam scrunched up his little face and glanced from the wall to his mother, “But, I wanna live in a red house! It’s the best colour!”
“Well, it will take a very long time to paint the house with a crayon. How about we go downstairs and draw together - on paper?” Winona hummed as Sam nodded his head in agreement and the two slowly made their way downstairs.
As they entered the living room, little Jimmy was staring around the room in quiet curiousness. His pudgy hands and wisps of blonde hair were too adorable to ignore, so Winona picked him up from his place on the blanket and sat him in her lap at the coffee table.
“Okay Sam, how about we draw a house?” Winona smiled and started to draw a house. Sam scribbled furiously on his paper and left his mother to handle Jim while he was busy.
“Okay Jimmy, look at this.” Winona held up the blue crayon. “This is a blue crayon. It’s for drawing. Can you say crayon? Cuh-ray-on?” Jim proceeded to tilt his head and reach for the crayon, opening and closing his fist in a grabbing motion.
She sighed, “Not ready to talk then? Okay, here’s the crayon.”
Winona watched in fascination as Jim - only eleven months old - studied the crayon, then his brother, and then the paper. Almost as if he understood the purpose of the crayon. He put the crayon to the paper and began scribbling. A swirly and tangled blue blob worked its way onto the paper and Winona chuckled.
“You’re a smart boy aren’t you, Jimmy?” She pinched his cheeks and tickled his feet, which earned her a smile and giggle.
“Mom! Mommy! Look at my house!” The paper with a misshapen house was waved in front of her face.
“That’s very nice Sam! What are these?” She pointed at the picture.
Sam sighed, “They’re wings Mom! My house is a spaceship! I can fly to anywhere I want and meet aliens and fight monsters!”
Winona stiffened, “Sam...” her tone of voice was low and drawn out, “Houses do not fly. And space is not good for a boy like you. You deserve a happy life here in Iowa, on Earth.”
“But Mommy, I wanna be a spaceship Captain like Daddy was.” Sam pouted.
Winona’s eyes pricked with tears and her heart skipped a beat. It seems her son wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. Well, she’d stop that nonsense right away. Losing a husband to space was enough. She couldn’t lose her children too. So Winona stiffened her back and said with the authority she’d learned at Starfleet Academy, “You will not be going to space young man. Only bad things happen to people who go to space.”
“Oh...” Sam hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms, looking very dejected.
Winona put Jim down beside her, with the different coloured crayons he was intently studying, and brought her eldest child to her in a hug.
“I’m sorry Sammy. But I want you to be safe, and never have to deal with the pressures of joining Starfleet and being a captain. I want you to grow up and have a family - and be there for your family. I just don’t want to lose you.” Winona’s grasp on Sam tightened. Not understanding her entirely, but sensing his mother’s mood, Sam hugged her back, and forgot all about his dreams of being a spaceship captain.
The morning passed in relative silence for the small family gathered in the living room and both children were content to share relaxing time with their mother as the sun rose higher in the sky.
~~
Left to his own agenda, little Jim was curious as ever to test out his mobility and he slowly rose into a sitting position. The world seems so large in comparison to his small stature, and the bright colours are fascinating. He’s used to his surroundings and he recognises on some instinctive level that where he is, is safe and comforting.
The bottle is the first thing that fully draws his attention. Cheap plastic covered in the bright colours of a cartoon he couldn’t possibly recognise, the bottle of milk is a temptation he cannot resist. Jim wriggles awkwardly towards the coffee table where it is perched and with chubby arms raised high, knocks it to the floor. He’s still trying to achieve fine motor skills, so his first attempt at picking up the bottle is unsuccessful.
Jim is finally able to pick up his bottle and he brings it quickly to his mouth. His eyes are closed, and there is contentment in his body as he suckles the formula slowly from the bottle. He squirms as a tickle starts to form in the back of his mind, becoming an uncomfortable sensation. His little mind conjures up images of a tall, dark haired woman feeding him from her breast, and he decides the formula is an unsuitable replacement. The bottle drops from his hands.
~~
Winona, paying attention to her eldest son’s dictation of his drawings, notices nothing until the clatter of plastic against the wooden floorboards draws her attention. Jim shuffles forward on his bottom towards her, wriggling along in an uncoordinated movement of limbs. She picks him up and places him on her lap, turning back to Sammy.
“I suppose that’s you wanting mommy’s attention, is it?” Winona questions her infant son.
The little nod takes her by surprise, and she chuckles, it almost seems like he understood her.
“I suppose it’s time for lunch,” Winona stands, “How does a picnic sound, Sammy?”
The boy jumps from his spot, “YES!”
After the enthusiastic approval of her eldest child, Winona packs some sandwiches, juice boxes and fresh fruit into a cooler and not ten minutes later, they are out enjoying the warm Iowa sun. The old blue checkered blanket is soft and lumpy, and absolutely perfect to stretch out on as she watches Sammy sway back and forth on the tire swing. He is more interested in playing on the swing and climbing trees than food, so Winona turns her attention back towards baby Jim, who is quietly observing his surroundings.
“Time to learn some words, don’t you think?” She tickles Jim’s stomach, and is rewarded with a smile and incomprehensible babble.
Pointing towards herself with a large smile, she says slowly, “Mommy.”
Jim cocks his little head and appears to be listening intently.
“I am your mommy. Say it with me, Mo-oo-mm-eeee.”
Jim remains silent.
“You know your brother could say Mommy at this age.” Winona squints her eyes and pokes out her tongue to make a face at her baby.
Jim merely furrows his brows, and mumbles, “Mmm.. kkkkkooohh.”
Winona smiles, “We can work with that!” With a new enthusiasm, she points towards her chest again, “Mommy.”
Jim’s pudgy little hands reach towards his mother, “Koooooooh, kooooooh.”
“Mommy!” Winona tries again.
“Kooooohhh, mmmmmmaaaa.”
At this point, Winona feels like she is making absolutely no headway, and that her child must simply be a slow learner at this age. She sighs wistfully, remembering Sammy’s first word, ‘Daa’ which they took to mean ‘Dad’ as it eventually became ‘Daaadadadada’. The difference back then, was that there were two parents who could entertain and educate little Sammy. Now she is one parent with two children.
Jim may not be getting his words now, but he will eventually, so she perseveres, “Mommy”.
“Koooh meeeeehk.”
Shaking her head, Winona calls Sam over to help. “Sammy, you’ll help Jim with his words, won’t you?”
Sam nods his head very seriously, and turns to Jim, “My name is Sam, I’m your big brother!!”
Jim nods and gurgles, “Saaaa kaaaaiii.”
“No, my name is Sam!” He takes hold of his little brothers hands and moves his head down close to his brother’s face, “Sam!”
Jim looks startled by the loud instruction, but incredibly, repeats back slowly, “Saaa Saaammmmm.”
“SEE? It’s not hard!” Sam pats Jim gently on the head and turns back to his mother, whose mouth is agape.
“I - he - Jim! Your first word!!” She’s overwrought with excitement, and brings Sam to her chest, smothering the crown of his head in kisses, “Sam, you helped your brother say his first word! I’m so proud of you!”
Sam’s face is serious once more, “It’s not hard mommy.” Winona laughs loud, barking laughs and her joy is contagious as Sam joins in.
Jim, quiet as ever, observes the raucous.
“Oh Jim,” Winona sighs, “you really are a smart little cookie.” She and Sam fall onto opposite sides of Jim, and share in a warm, family cuddle. She’d known little Jimmy was smart, how could he not be with his genes?
Winona stroked the soft, downy blonde hair on her youngest son and recalled all the times he’d been quiet and studied his surroundings. He’s smart, only, in a different way than Sam was at that age. She remembered how easily he’d recognised that crayons were for drawing. He was always interested in observing his surrounding, and the inquisitive look he always sported was not something she had seen before in a baby, but she’d really only seen two, Sam and Jim.
Winona smiled, and closed her eyes against the warm sun. Yes, her Jim smart little cookie indeed, and he’d grow up to do great things.
Next Chapter
Chapter: One
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: Death, child abuse, eventual swearing and sexing, violent actions and eventual slash.
Status: Work In Progress
Summary: Jim is special. He knows he is special, and has been right from birth. In fact, he doesn’t even know why. But sometimes, visions of a red planet pass through his dreams. On that planet there is sand and heat and he feels homesick.
Prologue | Chapter One
Stardate 2234.56, Riverside, Iowa
Life in Riverside is quiet.
The hustle and bustle of working in space has long been over for Winona Kirk, but anywhere would be better than quiet, peaceful, boring Riverside. The only reason she’s stayed so long is because of her kids. She loves them, and when they’re young and impressionable they need a mother.
But she’s trapped; Trapped in the house that belonged to her husband and is filled with his family history. Every day she’s faced with photographs of the cherished moments in his life. It’s depressing. Yet each day she gets up, puts a smile on her face and moves on. She has to do it, for her children.
Winona sipped her coffee and scrolled through the data padd on her lap. Although she doesn’t go out into space anymore, she still works for Starfleet from home. When she’s lucky enough she can keep the boys busy for a few hours with toys or holovids and do some work. Now is one of those times.
Baby Jim is napping on a blanket on the living room floor and Sam is colouring away with some old crayons, talking to himself about dogs and horses. They’re both beautiful children and she’s more than thankful that they’re so perfect and healthy. She loves them more than anything, cherishes the remnants of her dead husband. They look like George, almost carbon copies and she knows that when they’re older they’ll be heart breakers.
She sighs when she realises she’s been left heartbroken - but in a totally different context.
But for all that they were like their father, the boys couldn’t be more different from each other. Sam is a wild child - always up to something, making a mess, throwing tantrums, screaming or running around. Little Jim is calm, gentle and quiet. She knows he’ll be the level-headed child in the future. He always silently surveys his surroundings and never fusses.
Winona’s thoughts drifted from her children back to the data padd in her lap. The reports on bimolecular kinetics in plant species on Invernia II could not wait. She reviewed the reports, scoffing at spelling mistakes and errors in judgement from an obviously inexperienced science officer. Really, did she have to go up there and smack some sense into the man that wrote it?
She sighed again. She can’t go back into space, not yet at least. Winona placed the data padd on the couch beside her and finished her coffee. She could rest now and finish her work after dinner. So she packed away her things and headed into the kitchen to clean her dishes. She hummed a gentle tune under her breathe. Then she stopped and enjoyed the silence of the house.
‘Silence…’ she frowned.
She hurried back into the living room and glanced at Jim. He’s still sleeping. She looks for Sam. He’s not at the table colouring. Winona groaned and a sliver of panic shot through her veins.
“Sammy!” she called, “Where are you sweetie?”
Hearing a shuffled thud, she sighs with relief when she realises he is still inside the house - only upstairs. Walking up the creaky stairs, she comes across her oldest son, red crayon in hand and drawing on the walls.
“What are you doing, you silly boy?” she tried to stay stern, but amusement leaked through her tone of voice.
With a toothy grin, Sam scribbled again on the wall and replied, “Painting the house!”
Winona chuckled, “Painting the house. Oh darling, the house doesn’t need to be painted!”
Sam scrunched up his little face and glanced from the wall to his mother, “But, I wanna live in a red house! It’s the best colour!”
“Well, it will take a very long time to paint the house with a crayon. How about we go downstairs and draw together - on paper?” Winona hummed as Sam nodded his head in agreement and the two slowly made their way downstairs.
As they entered the living room, little Jimmy was staring around the room in quiet curiousness. His pudgy hands and wisps of blonde hair were too adorable to ignore, so Winona picked him up from his place on the blanket and sat him in her lap at the coffee table.
“Okay Sam, how about we draw a house?” Winona smiled and started to draw a house. Sam scribbled furiously on his paper and left his mother to handle Jim while he was busy.
“Okay Jimmy, look at this.” Winona held up the blue crayon. “This is a blue crayon. It’s for drawing. Can you say crayon? Cuh-ray-on?” Jim proceeded to tilt his head and reach for the crayon, opening and closing his fist in a grabbing motion.
She sighed, “Not ready to talk then? Okay, here’s the crayon.”
Winona watched in fascination as Jim - only eleven months old - studied the crayon, then his brother, and then the paper. Almost as if he understood the purpose of the crayon. He put the crayon to the paper and began scribbling. A swirly and tangled blue blob worked its way onto the paper and Winona chuckled.
“You’re a smart boy aren’t you, Jimmy?” She pinched his cheeks and tickled his feet, which earned her a smile and giggle.
“Mom! Mommy! Look at my house!” The paper with a misshapen house was waved in front of her face.
“That’s very nice Sam! What are these?” She pointed at the picture.
Sam sighed, “They’re wings Mom! My house is a spaceship! I can fly to anywhere I want and meet aliens and fight monsters!”
Winona stiffened, “Sam...” her tone of voice was low and drawn out, “Houses do not fly. And space is not good for a boy like you. You deserve a happy life here in Iowa, on Earth.”
“But Mommy, I wanna be a spaceship Captain like Daddy was.” Sam pouted.
Winona’s eyes pricked with tears and her heart skipped a beat. It seems her son wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. Well, she’d stop that nonsense right away. Losing a husband to space was enough. She couldn’t lose her children too. So Winona stiffened her back and said with the authority she’d learned at Starfleet Academy, “You will not be going to space young man. Only bad things happen to people who go to space.”
“Oh...” Sam hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms, looking very dejected.
Winona put Jim down beside her, with the different coloured crayons he was intently studying, and brought her eldest child to her in a hug.
“I’m sorry Sammy. But I want you to be safe, and never have to deal with the pressures of joining Starfleet and being a captain. I want you to grow up and have a family - and be there for your family. I just don’t want to lose you.” Winona’s grasp on Sam tightened. Not understanding her entirely, but sensing his mother’s mood, Sam hugged her back, and forgot all about his dreams of being a spaceship captain.
The morning passed in relative silence for the small family gathered in the living room and both children were content to share relaxing time with their mother as the sun rose higher in the sky.
~~
Left to his own agenda, little Jim was curious as ever to test out his mobility and he slowly rose into a sitting position. The world seems so large in comparison to his small stature, and the bright colours are fascinating. He’s used to his surroundings and he recognises on some instinctive level that where he is, is safe and comforting.
The bottle is the first thing that fully draws his attention. Cheap plastic covered in the bright colours of a cartoon he couldn’t possibly recognise, the bottle of milk is a temptation he cannot resist. Jim wriggles awkwardly towards the coffee table where it is perched and with chubby arms raised high, knocks it to the floor. He’s still trying to achieve fine motor skills, so his first attempt at picking up the bottle is unsuccessful.
Jim is finally able to pick up his bottle and he brings it quickly to his mouth. His eyes are closed, and there is contentment in his body as he suckles the formula slowly from the bottle. He squirms as a tickle starts to form in the back of his mind, becoming an uncomfortable sensation. His little mind conjures up images of a tall, dark haired woman feeding him from her breast, and he decides the formula is an unsuitable replacement. The bottle drops from his hands.
~~
Winona, paying attention to her eldest son’s dictation of his drawings, notices nothing until the clatter of plastic against the wooden floorboards draws her attention. Jim shuffles forward on his bottom towards her, wriggling along in an uncoordinated movement of limbs. She picks him up and places him on her lap, turning back to Sammy.
“I suppose that’s you wanting mommy’s attention, is it?” Winona questions her infant son.
The little nod takes her by surprise, and she chuckles, it almost seems like he understood her.
“I suppose it’s time for lunch,” Winona stands, “How does a picnic sound, Sammy?”
The boy jumps from his spot, “YES!”
After the enthusiastic approval of her eldest child, Winona packs some sandwiches, juice boxes and fresh fruit into a cooler and not ten minutes later, they are out enjoying the warm Iowa sun. The old blue checkered blanket is soft and lumpy, and absolutely perfect to stretch out on as she watches Sammy sway back and forth on the tire swing. He is more interested in playing on the swing and climbing trees than food, so Winona turns her attention back towards baby Jim, who is quietly observing his surroundings.
“Time to learn some words, don’t you think?” She tickles Jim’s stomach, and is rewarded with a smile and incomprehensible babble.
Pointing towards herself with a large smile, she says slowly, “Mommy.”
Jim cocks his little head and appears to be listening intently.
“I am your mommy. Say it with me, Mo-oo-mm-eeee.”
Jim remains silent.
“You know your brother could say Mommy at this age.” Winona squints her eyes and pokes out her tongue to make a face at her baby.
Jim merely furrows his brows, and mumbles, “Mmm.. kkkkkooohh.”
Winona smiles, “We can work with that!” With a new enthusiasm, she points towards her chest again, “Mommy.”
Jim’s pudgy little hands reach towards his mother, “Koooooooh, kooooooh.”
“Mommy!” Winona tries again.
“Kooooohhh, mmmmmmaaaa.”
At this point, Winona feels like she is making absolutely no headway, and that her child must simply be a slow learner at this age. She sighs wistfully, remembering Sammy’s first word, ‘Daa’ which they took to mean ‘Dad’ as it eventually became ‘Daaadadadada’. The difference back then, was that there were two parents who could entertain and educate little Sammy. Now she is one parent with two children.
Jim may not be getting his words now, but he will eventually, so she perseveres, “Mommy”.
“Koooh meeeeehk.”
Shaking her head, Winona calls Sam over to help. “Sammy, you’ll help Jim with his words, won’t you?”
Sam nods his head very seriously, and turns to Jim, “My name is Sam, I’m your big brother!!”
Jim nods and gurgles, “Saaaa kaaaaiii.”
“No, my name is Sam!” He takes hold of his little brothers hands and moves his head down close to his brother’s face, “Sam!”
Jim looks startled by the loud instruction, but incredibly, repeats back slowly, “Saaa Saaammmmm.”
“SEE? It’s not hard!” Sam pats Jim gently on the head and turns back to his mother, whose mouth is agape.
“I - he - Jim! Your first word!!” She’s overwrought with excitement, and brings Sam to her chest, smothering the crown of his head in kisses, “Sam, you helped your brother say his first word! I’m so proud of you!”
Sam’s face is serious once more, “It’s not hard mommy.” Winona laughs loud, barking laughs and her joy is contagious as Sam joins in.
Jim, quiet as ever, observes the raucous.
“Oh Jim,” Winona sighs, “you really are a smart little cookie.” She and Sam fall onto opposite sides of Jim, and share in a warm, family cuddle. She’d known little Jimmy was smart, how could he not be with his genes?
Winona stroked the soft, downy blonde hair on her youngest son and recalled all the times he’d been quiet and studied his surroundings. He’s smart, only, in a different way than Sam was at that age. She remembered how easily he’d recognised that crayons were for drawing. He was always interested in observing his surrounding, and the inquisitive look he always sported was not something she had seen before in a baby, but she’d really only seen two, Sam and Jim.
Winona smiled, and closed her eyes against the warm sun. Yes, her Jim smart little cookie indeed, and he’d grow up to do great things.
Next Chapter