[fic] The Boy Who Was Too Young, Part 7
Title: The Boy Who Was Too Young, Part 7
Rating: mild NC-17
Pairing: Bones/Jim, OMC/Jim
Warning: mpreg, teenagers who are really too young, reference to abortion
Thanks: To both lifebehindadesk and hebrewhammer42 for the awesome beta jobs.
Notes: According to Memory Beta, Sam was born 12 August 2230. Also, cold weather causes arteries to constrict. This elevates risk for anyone with high blood pressure.
Summary: Jim learns about his family history, and it changes his point of view of his situation. Or maybe he's just finally being honest with himself. Meanwhile, Winona is looking at the medical charts and getting scared.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six
Riverside, April 2249
For three weeks, James snuck into Jacob’s Bar and Grill. He trudged through the snow and cold with obstinate and illogical stubbornness, on a mission against the forces in his life he couldn’t control.
He didn’t share any of his stolen bounty with his friends, hoarding the drinks to himself. He hid it in Sam’s room, rightly thinking that Frank wouldn’t look through the old boxes of video games that had been packed up.
Dr. Carter clucked and hummed at every visit. “Stay inside and dress warmly. The cold is hurting your heart. Your blood pressure is rising.”
“I feel fine,” James insisted.
“But you’re not. You’re getting worse.” She looked at him with a criticizing eye. “Do you want me to take out it yet?”
Yes.
He should just say yes and be done with this. But he didn’t.
---------------------------------
It was on the fourth trip to Jacob’s that he was caught.
He was going through the vodka when suddenly the door into the main bar area opened. The voices of people laughing and talking came through, and the shadow of an old man floated in.
In the corner, leaning over a stack of crates, James froze. Then he knelt down to hide.
“Kirk, is that you?”
The boy's heart sank down to his stomach.
“Boy, I know you’re in there. You probably owe me a hundred credits for all the booze you’ve been taking, but let’s forget about that for now. I just want to talk.” The tavern’s owner closed the door, and slowly walked across the small storage room. It wasn’t hard to find Jim, crouched in the corner behind the crates of beer. He leaned over and offered a hand. “Are you comfortable down there?”
Jim refused the hand. He stood up on his own power, bracing one arm against the wall and pushing up with the other arm to support his off balanced weight. Once standing, James leaned against the wall, easing some of the strain in his back.
“I figured it had to be you on the security tapes,” the old man told him, “Ain’t no one else in quite the same condition as you are.”
“You going to turn me in?” Jim tensed.
“Well, I haven’t told the sheriff yet. Why don’t you and I sit down and talk?”
The old man pulled two folding chairs from the stack leaning against the wall and kindly offered James the seat. With a little difficulty (but more pride than a lion) the teen sat down. He warily watched the tavern manager.
“It’s been awhile since you last came in to the restaurant.” The man reflected, “You and your brother used to come by all the time and order quesadillas.”
“Sam’s not here.” Jim pointed out, unhappily.
“And neither is your Ma. I reckon it must be pretty lonely, just you and your stepdad.”
James Kirk scoffed, and leaned back into his chair with arms crossed defensively.
The old man persisted, “He cares about you, but I hear he’s not too good about showin’ it.”
Jim made a long face. “He doesn’t care. He only tries to be nice because he doesn’t want to get in trouble with my mom.”
“He’s shown a lot of concern for you.”
All Frank cared about was his job. “She never would have married him, if it wasn’t for the crops. She should have just sold the land.”
“But that’s your Pa’s land. She didn’t want to sell it. She’s hoping that someday you or your brother might want it.”
Jim would never, ever be a farmer. “I don’t fucking want it.”
“I doubt many fifteen year olds would-”
“I’m sixteen now.” Jim muttered quietly. The man paused in mistake, then sighed in acquiescence.
“My apologies. I should have remembered. It was easier to keep track when your Ma brought you boys in every January and August. I haven't had a chance to bring out the streamers and balloons for you in recent years.”
Jim remembered balloons piled high on the restaurant floor, and music playing while everyone sang for him. The cakes were large enough to feed everyone there. All the kids in his class would come. Even the bar regulars, only there for lunch, would clap and cheer.
The last party had been when Jim was twelve. The joy hadn’t been there because Sam had run away and their mother had left for space six months before. Frank was sore and surly over the incident with the car. That year Jim thought more about the real father he had never met, and what that meant for his birthday. It hadn’t felt like much of a party; all the regulars had tried to make the occasion cheerful and festive, but they couldn’t lighten the darkness Jim felt. There hadn’t been a birthday party since.
When James didn’t respond, the old man cautiously tried another tactic. “Have I ever told you how your Pa met Winona?”
“No..." Jim answered hesitantly, not expecting the question.
The old man waved his finger in the way he always did when he told a story. “It was here, at my bar. She was with her friends, sitting at the counter over there, four stools down from the window. Your Pa was working here at the time, just 19, and it was the night all the Starfleet cadets from the east coast stop by.” The old man leaned forward with enthusiasm for his story. Jim listened with hidden interest.
“Your Ma was in her cadet reds, and boy, I can tell you the moment George first caught sight of her. He stopped mid-sentence, and stared dumb for thirty seconds. Was the funniest thing.” The tavern master shook his head with a grin. “We pushed him to talk to her and the two of them spent the whole night together. And would you believe the next morning he signed up for Starfleet? It’s what your granddad had been pushing him to do, but it took a pretty lady to finally make it happen! George Kirk followed your mother out into space.”
Light had been gathering behind Jim’s eyes during the story but it suddenly faded at the end. “Maybe if he hadn’t followed her, he wouldn’t be dead.”
“But then you and your brother wouldn’t be here. Good comes out of every mistake.”
“So it was a mistake for my father to follow my mother?” The boy looked the old tavern master in the eye confrontationally, daring the man to confirm it.
One would expect the old man to backpedal from what he said, but the man was confident in what he said, “None of us know what will come with life. Only choice we have is whether we are happy or not.”
The boy glared for a long moment, before tiredly looking away. “What the fuck do you know.”
“I know what your stomach looks like, even if I don’t know how the hell it happened. But I seen stranger things from the neighbors.” Old man Jacob's house was half a mile from the bar, and he lived next to a Renzite family with some pretty unusual housekeeping habits. “Ain’t anything you can take for granted in these times. Exciting really.”
It sure as hell wasn’t exciting to live with it growing in your stomach! “Exciting ‘cause I’m a freak? Maybe I wanted do things. Maybe I wanted to go to school in Africa, and study geo-biology and fucking do something when I graduate. Now they’re telling me that I’ve got this thing growing in me, and I’m going to have a kid - I’m a freak, and everyone stares at me!”
“No one thinks unkindly of you, boy. This town has nothing but concern for you.”
“Yeah, but the people who know what’s going on think I’m the worst! Who the fuck gets pregnant at sixteen? You’re screwed if that happens! You’re trash! You don’t get a good job, you’re the town loser, and everyone is telling me how irresponsible I am... The principal used to think I was the smartest kid at school, but now he just shakes his head at me like my whole life’s a waste. The doctor thinks I don’t deserve a kid, all my friends think I’m a freak, Frank’s fucking with me more than ever, and my mom’s biting her fingers ‘cause she’s trying to get home, and she’s not sure if she’s gonna get back in time, and…I’m screwed! This is fucking up everything! I haven’t even told Sam yet. Don’t know what the hell he’s going to think.” And Jim’s nose was running now, wiping at the dampness in his eyes, and looking more pathetic than a toddler. The old man squeezed the boy's shoulder. And when that wasn’t enough, he scooted forward to hug Jim tight.
“Everything’s going to be alright son. I know it’s scary, and you’re not sure what’s going to happen from here on out, but you’re strong. You’ll survive. Hell, you’ll probably even thrive, you Kirks always do. You know that’s how your daddy was born, right? He was just as much an accident as this baby right here is. Your grandpa came crying to me back when we were in high school ‘cause he got Maggie pregnant, and he thought the world was going to end.”
Jim knew about the ill timed fiasco that was his own birth, but he had never heard this about his grandparents. “My grandma was in high school when she had my Dad?”
“Their senior year. Neither of them knew how they were going to pay for a family, or whether they’d be able to go to college, any of that. He came to my house, and he cried his soul out, certain life was over for them both. But they pulled through. You seen those pictures of them in your house, ain’t ya? They were happy. He bought his first five hundred acres while she was pregnant. Cut some tight deals, but he made it work. Because he knew he had to find some way to carve out a life for the two of them, so he was more determined to succeed than any other human. He ended up prospering in his hardest times.”
James just nodded against the old man’s shoulder. Jacob Carter gently rocked them both. “You’ll be happy kid. There’s nothing but love for you in this world. You and this baby are gonna be happy,” he murmured.
“Dr. Carter wants me to get rid of it.” Jim mumbled through tears.
The man pulled away. “What?”
“She says it’s dangerous. She says it’s hurting my health.”
“...Huh. And how far along are you?”
“It’s been about five or six months.”
“And what do you want?”
James was silent for a long time. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
The old man sighed and considered. “Not many people get this chance. No kid to raise. No birth.” The man rubbed his old hand up and down Jim’s back soothingly. “You could go to the best college in Africa, right? Join Starfleet, and whatever else you planned before all this happened. Is that what you want?”
“I…I don’t know.” And the boy looked lost and confused, dazed even.
“I think you’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I believe you’ve taken about four bottles of rum, and six bottles of vodka.”
James froze.
“That’s a decent penny. But I was thinking you could pay me back by helping out round here.”
Jim relaxed just a little. “You’re not going to tell Frank, are you?”
“Well… I’d maybe let the thieving go, and just keep it between you and me. But you’ve been drinking son, and Angela needs to know about it.”
“No, not Dr. Carter,” Jim groaned. “She hates me already!”
“And I don’t think she’ll let it go without telling your Pa.”
“She can tell my Mom-have her tell my Mom, then Mom can tell Frank. Or not at all, I can convince her to not tell Frank at all-”
“We’ll see what Angela decides.”
---------------------------------
“I see,” Dr. Carter sighed as she wrote this all down on James Kirk’s record. “This does little to encourage faith in you, Kirk.”
“Be kind to the boy, Angela,” the old tavern master scolded.
“Shut up Dad,” the doctor griped.
On the examination table, James sulked. “You’re not going to tell Frank are you? Tell my mom instead; she’ll be able to handle it.
Dr. Carter pursed her lips. “I’ll tell Winona regardless, but she’s not here to watch you-”
“I’ll stop! I don’t need to be watched!”
“I’m not just talking about drinking! I’m more worried about the complications now. Your father needs to be told, because we need to keep an extra close eye on you for the next four months. This is serious.”
“He’s not my father.”
“Do I care?” The doctor sighed in agitation. “Have you made up your mind about aborting this? I think we should stop before it goes any further.”
“I’m keeping it.” Jim said firmly. Finally, he had decided.
“You took your time making up your mind, Kirk,” the doctor pointed out tiredly. “Let’s see if you can apply the same reckless determination to having a baby as you have to endangering your health. I’ll talk to your mother about this later. And I’m calling your stepfather now.”
Dr. Carter left the examination room, her father trailing behind her.
Dread knotted James' stomach just thinking about dealing with Frank, but he also felt better than he had in months. People knew. Mr. Carter knew. The whole town probably knew. And it was okay.
They left him in there for about ten minutes. Then Dr. Carter opened the door and waved him out. "Your stepdad is here."
In the waiting room, Frank was talking with old Mr. Carter. As soon as he looked at James, the boy knew he was in trouble.
"I'm gonna kill you-"
"He's threatening me, you should arrest him-"
"You are grounded for the rest of your life! Straight home every night until your mother gets back-"
"No! You suck!"
"Well actually," Mr. Carter interrupted, "he owes me a bit of money,"
Frank sighed. "I'm so sorry, Jacob; I'll pay you back for all of it."
The old man spread his hands. "No, no, you see, I had struck a deal with him just before we called you. I was going to have him work for me, until we're even. Sounds fair, doesn't it?"
"That's...well, he's been difficult lately." Frank's evil eye towards Jim implied worse than just "difficult".
"Maybe he needs something to keep him occupied. Less likely to get in trouble when he's got his hands full, don't you think? I'll have him bus tables."
Dr. Carter interrupted, her sardonic tone implying she didn't think much of the whole idea, "I want him off his feet."
"No, I can do it!" Jim insisted.
"If he can make it five miles from his house to my bar in the freezing cold, then I don't think a few tables will mean much to him, Angela."
Hearing about this for the first time, Frank's eyes bulged. "How many times have you done this, James?"
Jim tried to think of a way to downplay his escapades, but the doctor interrupted to argue with her father. "I don't want him walking five miles through the snow! I don't want him out in the cold at all! I don't want him working; I don't want him to move for the next four months. I want to strap him down to a bed and keep him there!"
"I'm so sorry, ma'am-" Frank began.
"You'll be sorry when that boy is in a coma," the doctor asserted, pointing her finger at Jim.
---------------------------------
In the end, Jim was allowed to work at the bar, though he wouldn’t be doing any physical work, and he would be driven everywhere from now. Frank's anger and yelling that night hurt in ways that Jim had been numb to for weeks, maybe years. He remembered cleaning a car and crying, and the same desire for decisiveness burned in his heart. His feet and fingers itched for action, but he held himself still, very still in his bed, equating action with destruction. He would be still tonight. He would learn to live a still and calm life, at least until summer. He had made his decision, and this choice was his now.
Tonight when Frank came to his room with the vid-phone, Jim took the call.
"It's your mother," Frank announced into the dark bedroom.
Jim stared silently for a moment, then rolled over in his sheets, and stretched out an arm.
Frank handed over the phone and shut the door.
"Honey, are you there?" Winona asked from light years away.
"Hey, Mom," Jim quietly responded.
"I can't see you. Everything is dark. Are you in bed already?"
"Yeah. But I can't sleep."
"Oh. I just wanted to see you."
"Yeah. Me too."
"Dr. Carter told me that you've been drinking."
He was quiet for a long time. Then, "I'm sorry."
"I know honey. I know."
"Where are you?" He asked softly.
On the tiny little screen, she closed her eyes, and her face twisted with regret. "Sector 2405-G. It'll be another month and a half before we cross paths with any vessels that are returning to Sol."
"Will you be here by August?" He pleaded.
"I'm trying honey. I'm trying really hard to be there in time."
"Please?" He didn't say 'please mommy', but he wanted to so much.
"I'm trying," she pleaded back.
In her mind, she held him tightly in her arms, all curled up in her lap. In his mind, she was there stroking his hair, kissing his forehead. In reality, they were both alone.
"I'm gonna keep it, Mom. No matter what she tells you, I'm gonna keep it."
"I know, honey."
"I considered it. I wanted to."
He resented this all, with destructive anger, but she knew how his heart worked. He had been the little boy who brought her broken birds and asked her to fix them. He had been the little boy who had broken his leg trying to get to the kitten in the tree.
He sounded like that little boy right now, as he softly confessed in the dark. "But...I didn't want to. You know? If I wanted to I would have done it already. The only reason I hadn't done it yet is because really I didn't want to. Does that make sense?"
She laughed, "Yes, honey, it does."
"I didn't want to. Not really."
"I know honey, but this is dangerous," she warned.
"I know, I messed up."
"You have to take it easy. No alcohol, no sugar. No more exercise, not even walks. Can you stay out of the cold?" She was scared for him.
"I can do that. I'll be careful."
She bit her lip in doubt, because her little boy had never been able to sit still, always poking his nose around the next corner.
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
“Okay honey. I’ll keep you to that.” She kissed him over the screen, and since no one else was there to see, Jim smiled for her and smooched back. “I’ll let you sleep Jimmy. If you feel any pain, any headaches, anything at all, tell Frank alright?”
“’kay Mom. G’night.”
“Night honey.”
In Riverside, Jim fell asleep holding the phone next to his head. In space, Winona shut off the link, and leaned back in her chair, listening to the hum of the ship in her empty room. She and Angela Carter had gone over all the details, all the developments, and knowing what could potentially happen was as bad as seeing Jimmy with bloody bone sticking out of his leg, as bad as hearing that the police still couldn’t find Sam, as bad as watching Tiberius Kirk gasp for breath in a hospital bed as his brain filled with blood.
Knowing that if something went wrong it could be her little boy on the hospital bed, while his kidneys or liver failed, gasping the last breaths, the last words, saying goodbye separated by a ship and space, unable to reach out and say “don’t leave me” just as he was gone-
No.
While Jim slept, Winona paced, anxiety and worry insisting she take action. But out here, there was nothing she could do.
Next, Chapter Eight
Rating: mild NC-17
Pairing: Bones/Jim, OMC/Jim
Warning: mpreg, teenagers who are really too young, reference to abortion
Thanks: To both lifebehindadesk and hebrewhammer42 for the awesome beta jobs.
Notes: According to Memory Beta, Sam was born 12 August 2230. Also, cold weather causes arteries to constrict. This elevates risk for anyone with high blood pressure.
Summary: Jim learns about his family history, and it changes his point of view of his situation. Or maybe he's just finally being honest with himself. Meanwhile, Winona is looking at the medical charts and getting scared.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six
Riverside, April 2249
For three weeks, James snuck into Jacob’s Bar and Grill. He trudged through the snow and cold with obstinate and illogical stubbornness, on a mission against the forces in his life he couldn’t control.
He didn’t share any of his stolen bounty with his friends, hoarding the drinks to himself. He hid it in Sam’s room, rightly thinking that Frank wouldn’t look through the old boxes of video games that had been packed up.
Dr. Carter clucked and hummed at every visit. “Stay inside and dress warmly. The cold is hurting your heart. Your blood pressure is rising.”
“I feel fine,” James insisted.
“But you’re not. You’re getting worse.” She looked at him with a criticizing eye. “Do you want me to take out it yet?”
Yes.
He should just say yes and be done with this. But he didn’t.
---------------------------------
It was on the fourth trip to Jacob’s that he was caught.
He was going through the vodka when suddenly the door into the main bar area opened. The voices of people laughing and talking came through, and the shadow of an old man floated in.
In the corner, leaning over a stack of crates, James froze. Then he knelt down to hide.
“Kirk, is that you?”
The boy's heart sank down to his stomach.
“Boy, I know you’re in there. You probably owe me a hundred credits for all the booze you’ve been taking, but let’s forget about that for now. I just want to talk.” The tavern’s owner closed the door, and slowly walked across the small storage room. It wasn’t hard to find Jim, crouched in the corner behind the crates of beer. He leaned over and offered a hand. “Are you comfortable down there?”
Jim refused the hand. He stood up on his own power, bracing one arm against the wall and pushing up with the other arm to support his off balanced weight. Once standing, James leaned against the wall, easing some of the strain in his back.
“I figured it had to be you on the security tapes,” the old man told him, “Ain’t no one else in quite the same condition as you are.”
“You going to turn me in?” Jim tensed.
“Well, I haven’t told the sheriff yet. Why don’t you and I sit down and talk?”
The old man pulled two folding chairs from the stack leaning against the wall and kindly offered James the seat. With a little difficulty (but more pride than a lion) the teen sat down. He warily watched the tavern manager.
“It’s been awhile since you last came in to the restaurant.” The man reflected, “You and your brother used to come by all the time and order quesadillas.”
“Sam’s not here.” Jim pointed out, unhappily.
“And neither is your Ma. I reckon it must be pretty lonely, just you and your stepdad.”
James Kirk scoffed, and leaned back into his chair with arms crossed defensively.
The old man persisted, “He cares about you, but I hear he’s not too good about showin’ it.”
Jim made a long face. “He doesn’t care. He only tries to be nice because he doesn’t want to get in trouble with my mom.”
“He’s shown a lot of concern for you.”
All Frank cared about was his job. “She never would have married him, if it wasn’t for the crops. She should have just sold the land.”
“But that’s your Pa’s land. She didn’t want to sell it. She’s hoping that someday you or your brother might want it.”
Jim would never, ever be a farmer. “I don’t fucking want it.”
“I doubt many fifteen year olds would-”
“I’m sixteen now.” Jim muttered quietly. The man paused in mistake, then sighed in acquiescence.
“My apologies. I should have remembered. It was easier to keep track when your Ma brought you boys in every January and August. I haven't had a chance to bring out the streamers and balloons for you in recent years.”
Jim remembered balloons piled high on the restaurant floor, and music playing while everyone sang for him. The cakes were large enough to feed everyone there. All the kids in his class would come. Even the bar regulars, only there for lunch, would clap and cheer.
The last party had been when Jim was twelve. The joy hadn’t been there because Sam had run away and their mother had left for space six months before. Frank was sore and surly over the incident with the car. That year Jim thought more about the real father he had never met, and what that meant for his birthday. It hadn’t felt like much of a party; all the regulars had tried to make the occasion cheerful and festive, but they couldn’t lighten the darkness Jim felt. There hadn’t been a birthday party since.
When James didn’t respond, the old man cautiously tried another tactic. “Have I ever told you how your Pa met Winona?”
“No..." Jim answered hesitantly, not expecting the question.
The old man waved his finger in the way he always did when he told a story. “It was here, at my bar. She was with her friends, sitting at the counter over there, four stools down from the window. Your Pa was working here at the time, just 19, and it was the night all the Starfleet cadets from the east coast stop by.” The old man leaned forward with enthusiasm for his story. Jim listened with hidden interest.
“Your Ma was in her cadet reds, and boy, I can tell you the moment George first caught sight of her. He stopped mid-sentence, and stared dumb for thirty seconds. Was the funniest thing.” The tavern master shook his head with a grin. “We pushed him to talk to her and the two of them spent the whole night together. And would you believe the next morning he signed up for Starfleet? It’s what your granddad had been pushing him to do, but it took a pretty lady to finally make it happen! George Kirk followed your mother out into space.”
Light had been gathering behind Jim’s eyes during the story but it suddenly faded at the end. “Maybe if he hadn’t followed her, he wouldn’t be dead.”
“But then you and your brother wouldn’t be here. Good comes out of every mistake.”
“So it was a mistake for my father to follow my mother?” The boy looked the old tavern master in the eye confrontationally, daring the man to confirm it.
One would expect the old man to backpedal from what he said, but the man was confident in what he said, “None of us know what will come with life. Only choice we have is whether we are happy or not.”
The boy glared for a long moment, before tiredly looking away. “What the fuck do you know.”
“I know what your stomach looks like, even if I don’t know how the hell it happened. But I seen stranger things from the neighbors.” Old man Jacob's house was half a mile from the bar, and he lived next to a Renzite family with some pretty unusual housekeeping habits. “Ain’t anything you can take for granted in these times. Exciting really.”
It sure as hell wasn’t exciting to live with it growing in your stomach! “Exciting ‘cause I’m a freak? Maybe I wanted do things. Maybe I wanted to go to school in Africa, and study geo-biology and fucking do something when I graduate. Now they’re telling me that I’ve got this thing growing in me, and I’m going to have a kid - I’m a freak, and everyone stares at me!”
“No one thinks unkindly of you, boy. This town has nothing but concern for you.”
“Yeah, but the people who know what’s going on think I’m the worst! Who the fuck gets pregnant at sixteen? You’re screwed if that happens! You’re trash! You don’t get a good job, you’re the town loser, and everyone is telling me how irresponsible I am... The principal used to think I was the smartest kid at school, but now he just shakes his head at me like my whole life’s a waste. The doctor thinks I don’t deserve a kid, all my friends think I’m a freak, Frank’s fucking with me more than ever, and my mom’s biting her fingers ‘cause she’s trying to get home, and she’s not sure if she’s gonna get back in time, and…I’m screwed! This is fucking up everything! I haven’t even told Sam yet. Don’t know what the hell he’s going to think.” And Jim’s nose was running now, wiping at the dampness in his eyes, and looking more pathetic than a toddler. The old man squeezed the boy's shoulder. And when that wasn’t enough, he scooted forward to hug Jim tight.
“Everything’s going to be alright son. I know it’s scary, and you’re not sure what’s going to happen from here on out, but you’re strong. You’ll survive. Hell, you’ll probably even thrive, you Kirks always do. You know that’s how your daddy was born, right? He was just as much an accident as this baby right here is. Your grandpa came crying to me back when we were in high school ‘cause he got Maggie pregnant, and he thought the world was going to end.”
Jim knew about the ill timed fiasco that was his own birth, but he had never heard this about his grandparents. “My grandma was in high school when she had my Dad?”
“Their senior year. Neither of them knew how they were going to pay for a family, or whether they’d be able to go to college, any of that. He came to my house, and he cried his soul out, certain life was over for them both. But they pulled through. You seen those pictures of them in your house, ain’t ya? They were happy. He bought his first five hundred acres while she was pregnant. Cut some tight deals, but he made it work. Because he knew he had to find some way to carve out a life for the two of them, so he was more determined to succeed than any other human. He ended up prospering in his hardest times.”
James just nodded against the old man’s shoulder. Jacob Carter gently rocked them both. “You’ll be happy kid. There’s nothing but love for you in this world. You and this baby are gonna be happy,” he murmured.
“Dr. Carter wants me to get rid of it.” Jim mumbled through tears.
The man pulled away. “What?”
“She says it’s dangerous. She says it’s hurting my health.”
“...Huh. And how far along are you?”
“It’s been about five or six months.”
“And what do you want?”
James was silent for a long time. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
The old man sighed and considered. “Not many people get this chance. No kid to raise. No birth.” The man rubbed his old hand up and down Jim’s back soothingly. “You could go to the best college in Africa, right? Join Starfleet, and whatever else you planned before all this happened. Is that what you want?”
“I…I don’t know.” And the boy looked lost and confused, dazed even.
“I think you’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I believe you’ve taken about four bottles of rum, and six bottles of vodka.”
James froze.
“That’s a decent penny. But I was thinking you could pay me back by helping out round here.”
Jim relaxed just a little. “You’re not going to tell Frank, are you?”
“Well… I’d maybe let the thieving go, and just keep it between you and me. But you’ve been drinking son, and Angela needs to know about it.”
“No, not Dr. Carter,” Jim groaned. “She hates me already!”
“And I don’t think she’ll let it go without telling your Pa.”
“She can tell my Mom-have her tell my Mom, then Mom can tell Frank. Or not at all, I can convince her to not tell Frank at all-”
“We’ll see what Angela decides.”
---------------------------------
“I see,” Dr. Carter sighed as she wrote this all down on James Kirk’s record. “This does little to encourage faith in you, Kirk.”
“Be kind to the boy, Angela,” the old tavern master scolded.
“Shut up Dad,” the doctor griped.
On the examination table, James sulked. “You’re not going to tell Frank are you? Tell my mom instead; she’ll be able to handle it.
Dr. Carter pursed her lips. “I’ll tell Winona regardless, but she’s not here to watch you-”
“I’ll stop! I don’t need to be watched!”
“I’m not just talking about drinking! I’m more worried about the complications now. Your father needs to be told, because we need to keep an extra close eye on you for the next four months. This is serious.”
“He’s not my father.”
“Do I care?” The doctor sighed in agitation. “Have you made up your mind about aborting this? I think we should stop before it goes any further.”
“I’m keeping it.” Jim said firmly. Finally, he had decided.
“You took your time making up your mind, Kirk,” the doctor pointed out tiredly. “Let’s see if you can apply the same reckless determination to having a baby as you have to endangering your health. I’ll talk to your mother about this later. And I’m calling your stepfather now.”
Dr. Carter left the examination room, her father trailing behind her.
Dread knotted James' stomach just thinking about dealing with Frank, but he also felt better than he had in months. People knew. Mr. Carter knew. The whole town probably knew. And it was okay.
They left him in there for about ten minutes. Then Dr. Carter opened the door and waved him out. "Your stepdad is here."
In the waiting room, Frank was talking with old Mr. Carter. As soon as he looked at James, the boy knew he was in trouble.
"I'm gonna kill you-"
"He's threatening me, you should arrest him-"
"You are grounded for the rest of your life! Straight home every night until your mother gets back-"
"No! You suck!"
"Well actually," Mr. Carter interrupted, "he owes me a bit of money,"
Frank sighed. "I'm so sorry, Jacob; I'll pay you back for all of it."
The old man spread his hands. "No, no, you see, I had struck a deal with him just before we called you. I was going to have him work for me, until we're even. Sounds fair, doesn't it?"
"That's...well, he's been difficult lately." Frank's evil eye towards Jim implied worse than just "difficult".
"Maybe he needs something to keep him occupied. Less likely to get in trouble when he's got his hands full, don't you think? I'll have him bus tables."
Dr. Carter interrupted, her sardonic tone implying she didn't think much of the whole idea, "I want him off his feet."
"No, I can do it!" Jim insisted.
"If he can make it five miles from his house to my bar in the freezing cold, then I don't think a few tables will mean much to him, Angela."
Hearing about this for the first time, Frank's eyes bulged. "How many times have you done this, James?"
Jim tried to think of a way to downplay his escapades, but the doctor interrupted to argue with her father. "I don't want him walking five miles through the snow! I don't want him out in the cold at all! I don't want him working; I don't want him to move for the next four months. I want to strap him down to a bed and keep him there!"
"I'm so sorry, ma'am-" Frank began.
"You'll be sorry when that boy is in a coma," the doctor asserted, pointing her finger at Jim.
---------------------------------
In the end, Jim was allowed to work at the bar, though he wouldn’t be doing any physical work, and he would be driven everywhere from now. Frank's anger and yelling that night hurt in ways that Jim had been numb to for weeks, maybe years. He remembered cleaning a car and crying, and the same desire for decisiveness burned in his heart. His feet and fingers itched for action, but he held himself still, very still in his bed, equating action with destruction. He would be still tonight. He would learn to live a still and calm life, at least until summer. He had made his decision, and this choice was his now.
Tonight when Frank came to his room with the vid-phone, Jim took the call.
"It's your mother," Frank announced into the dark bedroom.
Jim stared silently for a moment, then rolled over in his sheets, and stretched out an arm.
Frank handed over the phone and shut the door.
"Honey, are you there?" Winona asked from light years away.
"Hey, Mom," Jim quietly responded.
"I can't see you. Everything is dark. Are you in bed already?"
"Yeah. But I can't sleep."
"Oh. I just wanted to see you."
"Yeah. Me too."
"Dr. Carter told me that you've been drinking."
He was quiet for a long time. Then, "I'm sorry."
"I know honey. I know."
"Where are you?" He asked softly.
On the tiny little screen, she closed her eyes, and her face twisted with regret. "Sector 2405-G. It'll be another month and a half before we cross paths with any vessels that are returning to Sol."
"Will you be here by August?" He pleaded.
"I'm trying honey. I'm trying really hard to be there in time."
"Please?" He didn't say 'please mommy', but he wanted to so much.
"I'm trying," she pleaded back.
In her mind, she held him tightly in her arms, all curled up in her lap. In his mind, she was there stroking his hair, kissing his forehead. In reality, they were both alone.
"I'm gonna keep it, Mom. No matter what she tells you, I'm gonna keep it."
"I know, honey."
"I considered it. I wanted to."
He resented this all, with destructive anger, but she knew how his heart worked. He had been the little boy who brought her broken birds and asked her to fix them. He had been the little boy who had broken his leg trying to get to the kitten in the tree.
He sounded like that little boy right now, as he softly confessed in the dark. "But...I didn't want to. You know? If I wanted to I would have done it already. The only reason I hadn't done it yet is because really I didn't want to. Does that make sense?"
She laughed, "Yes, honey, it does."
"I didn't want to. Not really."
"I know honey, but this is dangerous," she warned.
"I know, I messed up."
"You have to take it easy. No alcohol, no sugar. No more exercise, not even walks. Can you stay out of the cold?" She was scared for him.
"I can do that. I'll be careful."
She bit her lip in doubt, because her little boy had never been able to sit still, always poking his nose around the next corner.
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
“Okay honey. I’ll keep you to that.” She kissed him over the screen, and since no one else was there to see, Jim smiled for her and smooched back. “I’ll let you sleep Jimmy. If you feel any pain, any headaches, anything at all, tell Frank alright?”
“’kay Mom. G’night.”
“Night honey.”
In Riverside, Jim fell asleep holding the phone next to his head. In space, Winona shut off the link, and leaned back in her chair, listening to the hum of the ship in her empty room. She and Angela Carter had gone over all the details, all the developments, and knowing what could potentially happen was as bad as seeing Jimmy with bloody bone sticking out of his leg, as bad as hearing that the police still couldn’t find Sam, as bad as watching Tiberius Kirk gasp for breath in a hospital bed as his brain filled with blood.
Knowing that if something went wrong it could be her little boy on the hospital bed, while his kidneys or liver failed, gasping the last breaths, the last words, saying goodbye separated by a ship and space, unable to reach out and say “don’t leave me” just as he was gone-
No.
While Jim slept, Winona paced, anxiety and worry insisting she take action. But out here, there was nothing she could do.
Next, Chapter Eight