Striding through the doors of his quarters, John slung his gun over his shoulder, the strap fitting snugly against his chest. He knew he didn't need the BFG on the Enterprise, but he felt safer with its comforting mass resting between his shoulder blades. Besides, it never hurt to be prepared
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"...ouch."
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Ohcrap.
"You're Lenny, right little dude?" he asked, getting down on one knee and extending a hand to help the boy up. He smiled weakly.
Whatdoyouthinkyou'redoing?You'reterriblewithkids.
He gulped as his brain continued to process the situation. This wasn't just any kid.
His smile slipped a little.
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"Wow..."
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He noticed Lenny's interest but ignored it. No kid should be exposed to guns in a fun way. They weren't toys and they certainly weren't cool.
John was especially determined to keep Lenny from coveting weapons, as his older self was the better version of John. If Leonard grew up with a taste for violence...
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"I'm okay," he said, looking up at the other man. "Joanna said you taught people how to fight, is that true?" he asked, furrowing his forehead.
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"Well, I teach people how to defend themselves, if that's what you mean. But that's a lot different than fighting. Fighting implies that you are the aggressor, whereas defense lacks the offensive moves that make up fighting." He paused and frowned.
And this was why he was not a kindergarten teacher.
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Biting his bottom lip, he looked down, not wanting to tattle or nothin' but he didn't want Jimmy hurt. He was so little. "I think someone's bullying him."
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How could he explain to this child, medical genius that he would become, that whatever he taught his friend could give the kid the tools he needed to fight back? How could he tell Lenny that, after this kid got tired of being picked on, he would pick fights of his own?
"Look, little dude. I'm no psychologist but I'm pretty sure that just learning to defend himself isn't going to cut it." He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing. He had trouble enough explaining himself to adults, how could he explain himself to a child?
"Fine. I'll help. Who's this friend of yours?"
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Of course it would be the captain. Of course.
"...Sure. I'll teach him some moves and sets." John's stomach churned as he thought of Kirk, a man he respected, a man he'd taken advantage of, as a child.
A defenseless child.
"Where can we find this kid?"
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"He lives on deck five. Wanna go now? You busy?"
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John hoped that this would end well, without him losing it. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was a vain hope.
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"Deck five," he said loudly as they entered the turbo lift. He looked up at John, and gave him a little smile.
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