[Birthdays]
"Here's to you, here's to me, the best of friends we'll ever be, but if we should ever trouble see, to hell with you and here's to me!"
Jim could remember being in bars for his birthday, some dark corner where he could forget what day it was. The day his life began and ended. It had began with his first breath... and seconds later, a huge part of it ended when his father's ship hit the Narada. His birthday was one of the most famous days in recent history... enough that people got off as a holiday. It was the day he hated most each year.
He could remember when he was little, only a child. It was the only birthday he could remember when his mother was actually there for. He could remember being very excited about it, because Frank didn't celebrate them. Sam did, a little... Jim had a small collection of brother-made gifts in the room they shared. Mom (a fuzzy image of a pretty woman with blond hair) would be there. They would have fun. He had seen other parties during his few years, when he was in school and invited to a friend's house. It involved colored paper and friends and gifts and laughing and cake.
But Mom came... and there was no pretty paper, no man with bright hair and a big red nose, no group of friends. It had been a tiny party - just the four of them. Winona had made a cake, or so he had thought. Years later, he would figure out she bought it from a store. He couldn't remember the gifts given, but remembered it being one of his good memories of childhood... followed by sadness.
It had been very late at night. A tiny Jim Kirk had needed to rest the bathroom and had snuck out of his bedroom. On the way to the bathroom though... he had heard something in the living room. He padded on silent feet to the living room and poked his head around the doorframe, knowing he'd get in trouble for being up. He didn't understand it as a child, seeing Winona staring out the window upwards with wetness on her cheeks and looking sad.
He had gone to the bathroom and curled up in bed again, feeling sad too. Birthdays were supposed to be happy days, not sad days. Mommy was usually sad...
Birthdays weren't happy things, not in his house.
He touched the alcohol to his lips, his eyes closing. Here's to me.
One drink is all he'd allow himself. He had taken his shift, spent some time on the bridge, paperwork in his office... and now just in his room, waiting for Bones to get off duty. The idea of fucking Bones, or getting fucked, sounded good.
But... someone else's birthday was coming up. Jim smirked at the idea. Maybe he could convince Bones and maybe Nyota... to make a little special party for Spock.
Jim could remember being in bars for his birthday, some dark corner where he could forget what day it was. The day his life began and ended. It had began with his first breath... and seconds later, a huge part of it ended when his father's ship hit the Narada. His birthday was one of the most famous days in recent history... enough that people got off as a holiday. It was the day he hated most each year.
He could remember when he was little, only a child. It was the only birthday he could remember when his mother was actually there for. He could remember being very excited about it, because Frank didn't celebrate them. Sam did, a little... Jim had a small collection of brother-made gifts in the room they shared. Mom (a fuzzy image of a pretty woman with blond hair) would be there. They would have fun. He had seen other parties during his few years, when he was in school and invited to a friend's house. It involved colored paper and friends and gifts and laughing and cake.
But Mom came... and there was no pretty paper, no man with bright hair and a big red nose, no group of friends. It had been a tiny party - just the four of them. Winona had made a cake, or so he had thought. Years later, he would figure out she bought it from a store. He couldn't remember the gifts given, but remembered it being one of his good memories of childhood... followed by sadness.
It had been very late at night. A tiny Jim Kirk had needed to rest the bathroom and had snuck out of his bedroom. On the way to the bathroom though... he had heard something in the living room. He padded on silent feet to the living room and poked his head around the doorframe, knowing he'd get in trouble for being up. He didn't understand it as a child, seeing Winona staring out the window upwards with wetness on her cheeks and looking sad.
He had gone to the bathroom and curled up in bed again, feeling sad too. Birthdays were supposed to be happy days, not sad days. Mommy was usually sad...
Birthdays weren't happy things, not in his house.
He touched the alcohol to his lips, his eyes closing. Here's to me.
One drink is all he'd allow himself. He had taken his shift, spent some time on the bridge, paperwork in his office... and now just in his room, waiting for Bones to get off duty. The idea of fucking Bones, or getting fucked, sounded good.
But... someone else's birthday was coming up. Jim smirked at the idea. Maybe he could convince Bones and maybe Nyota... to make a little special party for Spock.