New!Trek Fic - Kirk Laments
Hokay, so.
Really not sure where else to post this bad boy. So I figure I'll just post him here until someone takes pity on me and lets me know. :\
Title: Kirk Laments
Author: emocezi
Rating: Ima go with a Pg-13 just in case.
Warnings: Mention of Suicide, mention of physical abuse.
Word count: 659, I know, it's rather short.
Disclaimer: I don't own Startrek...ok that's not true, I own the box sets of star trek...and a poster. But that's it. Gene Roddenberry owns everything else...and Paramount...maybe Paramount. D:<
Summary Kirk sees Spock thinking, and imagines he's thinking about his mother. Kirk starts to remember his own mother, and he has no happy memories of the woman who stayed alive because her son resembled his dead father. And if I go into any more detail I'll be giving away the entire damn story so....just read the damn thing. :I
Jim stares at his first officer. The man is silent, eyes locked onto his station, monitoring god knows what with an intensity that means his mind is probably somewhere else. He's probably thinking of his mother, and Jim cocks his head to the side.
He wonders what it feels like, to have that unconditional love from a parent. To know that when your mother stares at you in the morning she's seeing you, not her long dead husband. Jim's long suspected that she blames him, at least a little for making her have to be an adult. He knows that Winona would have gone up with her husband in a flash of glory and self sacrifice without a second thought. But for him she was forced to stay, for him she was alive. For a promise she had made to his Father, take care of his son.
He received the news last week and still isn't quite sure how to process it. Winona Kirk was found laying in the bathtub, an empty hypospray that had been filled to the brim with a powerful sedative laying on the ground. She had gotten her wish, gone to stay with George for all eternity.
Spock seems to sense Jim's attention focused on him and glances over, dark eyes empty of anything, and Jim shoots him a smile full of self loathing and melancholy. He turns his attention back to the screen and remembers what his mother had shouted at him before she kicked him out at fifteen, after he'd messed up her last relationship, with a faceless, nameless man who hit her for kicks.
Remembers her screaming that if he didn't look so much like his father she would have done this years ago. She's drunk again, not that it matters. Alcohol just gives her the courage to say what she never could sober. So Jim leaves, and he's never once looked back. Never called home to check up on things, never thought that maybe she regretted what she said to him in a fit of anger and booze. It's occurred to him over the years since he left with his bike and the clothes on his back, that leaving was the best thing that could have happened to him.
Jim sighs, chin resting on his palm as he stares out at the stars. Still wondering what it must be like to think of your mother's death, and feel regret that you couldn't have grabbed her before she plunged over the edge of a dying planet.
Instead he feels nothing, except maybe a little bit of relief that it's finally over and she's with her husband. And then he feels guilty for having wished death on her a hundred times over when he's exhausted and huddled up somewhere out of the rain. But he imagines the guilt is normal, wonders if maybe he should talk to Bones, cause he hates the ship Shrink. Creepy old man with beady eyes and jowls that flap when he talks.
Sulu's asking questions about where they need to be, and Kirk really doesn't care at this point. So he tells Sulu to go where his heart takes him and settles back in his chair. He still feels guilty, but it's the kind of guilt he's felt all his life. The guilt that's made him who he is today, made him prove he was as good as his father, if not better. After all, George Kirk was only Captain for eight minutes, Jim Kirk has met a man who let him know he's gonna be Captain for the next five years, if not longer. And he can settle for that.
Really not sure where else to post this bad boy. So I figure I'll just post him here until someone takes pity on me and lets me know. :\
Title: Kirk Laments
Author: emocezi
Rating: Ima go with a Pg-13 just in case.
Warnings: Mention of Suicide, mention of physical abuse.
Word count: 659, I know, it's rather short.
Disclaimer: I don't own Startrek...ok that's not true, I own the box sets of star trek...and a poster. But that's it. Gene Roddenberry owns everything else...and Paramount...maybe Paramount. D:<
Summary Kirk sees Spock thinking, and imagines he's thinking about his mother. Kirk starts to remember his own mother, and he has no happy memories of the woman who stayed alive because her son resembled his dead father. And if I go into any more detail I'll be giving away the entire damn story so....just read the damn thing. :I
Jim stares at his first officer. The man is silent, eyes locked onto his station, monitoring god knows what with an intensity that means his mind is probably somewhere else. He's probably thinking of his mother, and Jim cocks his head to the side.
He wonders what it feels like, to have that unconditional love from a parent. To know that when your mother stares at you in the morning she's seeing you, not her long dead husband. Jim's long suspected that she blames him, at least a little for making her have to be an adult. He knows that Winona would have gone up with her husband in a flash of glory and self sacrifice without a second thought. But for him she was forced to stay, for him she was alive. For a promise she had made to his Father, take care of his son.
He received the news last week and still isn't quite sure how to process it. Winona Kirk was found laying in the bathtub, an empty hypospray that had been filled to the brim with a powerful sedative laying on the ground. She had gotten her wish, gone to stay with George for all eternity.
Spock seems to sense Jim's attention focused on him and glances over, dark eyes empty of anything, and Jim shoots him a smile full of self loathing and melancholy. He turns his attention back to the screen and remembers what his mother had shouted at him before she kicked him out at fifteen, after he'd messed up her last relationship, with a faceless, nameless man who hit her for kicks.
Remembers her screaming that if he didn't look so much like his father she would have done this years ago. She's drunk again, not that it matters. Alcohol just gives her the courage to say what she never could sober. So Jim leaves, and he's never once looked back. Never called home to check up on things, never thought that maybe she regretted what she said to him in a fit of anger and booze. It's occurred to him over the years since he left with his bike and the clothes on his back, that leaving was the best thing that could have happened to him.
Jim sighs, chin resting on his palm as he stares out at the stars. Still wondering what it must be like to think of your mother's death, and feel regret that you couldn't have grabbed her before she plunged over the edge of a dying planet.
Instead he feels nothing, except maybe a little bit of relief that it's finally over and she's with her husband. And then he feels guilty for having wished death on her a hundred times over when he's exhausted and huddled up somewhere out of the rain. But he imagines the guilt is normal, wonders if maybe he should talk to Bones, cause he hates the ship Shrink. Creepy old man with beady eyes and jowls that flap when he talks.
Sulu's asking questions about where they need to be, and Kirk really doesn't care at this point. So he tells Sulu to go where his heart takes him and settles back in his chair. He still feels guilty, but it's the kind of guilt he's felt all his life. The guilt that's made him who he is today, made him prove he was as good as his father, if not better. After all, George Kirk was only Captain for eight minutes, Jim Kirk has met a man who let him know he's gonna be Captain for the next five years, if not longer. And he can settle for that.