Already Gone: ST XI double drabble
Already Gone
--200 words
--PG // angst
--Kirk-centric
Jim's only half-listening, the rush of blood in his ears overwhelming most of what his stepdad says. The man scratches his beard, one greasy hand on George's shoulder, like he actually gives a damn. But Jim sees that bloodshot specter haunting the corners of his stepdad's eyes. He should know--by 16, he's spent plenty of nights drowning in Jack and the feeling of bone cracking underneath his fists.
Jim's only half-listening; he just hears the familiar words: transfer to Starbase 16, scheduling conflicts, emergency, unavoidable, Starfleet orders. Nothing he hasn’t heard from his mother before.
Jim's only half-listening, as he remembers tossing snowballs at George while their stepdad replicated a Christmas turkey. There's snow outside now, dingy drifts piling up against the walls of the old house, threatening to trap him there. The thought turns his guts into glaciers.
Jim's only half-listening, which means he's only half-there, a man with one foot half-way out the door. A man like that misses things: a listing tree in the corner, a few tarnished baubles hanging from its branches. The smell of turkey in a woodstove filled with pine chips. Four dusty stockings hanging from the mantle.
But Jim's already gone.