March, 2278 - USS ENTERPRISE

Uhura slapped his face, disgusted with her chosen lover.

"You nearly ripped me apart, you asshole!"

Jim shook his head, seemingly not 'getting it.'

"I---pushed apart your damned legs! That was how you told me to do it! 'Take me like I was paid for, Jim'. Your words, Nyota!"

"Then Thank God I wasn't paid for."

The tears were flowing down her face, but he found he couldn't care less right then.

"Thank God is right--you were hardly worth it."

She tried to walk out, but turning on her heel caused intense agony. He caught her as she fell. It only then began to dawn on him how he had hurt her.

"Baby--come back to bed."

"Jim--you nearly broke my leg. Push them apart is fine, but you weren't  stopping for anything. Oh, God---I can't feel down below, Jim! Get McCoy--please?"

But Kirk merely employed a light touch with his fingers where his manhood and arms had done so very much damage.

"Its called a healing touch. Ruth showed me it, once. I'm not as good as her, of course. But it should help."

Nyota still felt ill, but knew she could manage. Managing Jim Kirk was another story. It always was.

"Why, Jim? I begged you to stop."

He looked whipped and ashamed, and not just for this grim encounter.

"Darling, please tell me that I only get like this. Please tell me I'm not like this all the time. If you don't, I'll kill myself."

She wanted to hold him, but movement itself was pain, so she lay back, hoping not to puke.

"Jim, these episodes frighten me all the more for their lack of frequency. There's no rhyme or reason to them. How do I walk in that mine field and keep my legs attached? And don't tell me not to try, either."

He allowed a small, tender smile to cross his lips.

"I wouldn't dare. I may be strong enough to sprain your legs, but I've never been strong enough to  push you away."

She managed to reach out and hold his hand.

"That kind of power-does not exist, my love. But you make it so damned hard sometimes. You have too many burdens, Jim. Captain, Lover, Parent, T'hy'la. You spend so much time juggling, I never get to see the true you."

Kirk seemed as lost as before.

"I can't stop being The Captain. Loving you keeps me breathing. Especially after the murders, but always. My little girl needs me, because my 'Brother and Beyond' can't be bothered with her. You know where she wants to go, Nyota? You'll never guess."

"Oh, go ahead!"

It was the worst kind of changing the subject, but Uhura needed to catch her breath after it all. Another thing that had kept Jim breathing after the unsolved murders was his 'elf-princess'.

"She's sixteen, right? A logical Vulcan, right? So she wants to go—to Earth's North Pole! Her exact words were 'It is not inconceivable that Saint Nicholas made his way northward before his physical death. Certain Vulcan mystics placed their katras in whole regions of isolated land. This could form the basis for the legends. I wish to prove or disprove these stories.' Sixteen, Nyota. Sixteen, and her precious soul wants Santa Claus to be real."

Jim had not injured his legs. But now they felt wobbly, and uncertain. He nearly collapsed back into bed.

"Why did that just happen?"

Nyota just shook her head.

I could tell you, but you aren't ready for the answer. I have to go, Jim."

She kissed him, and left the bed, her leg still sore but useable. She felt Jim grab and kiss her ass as she got up, and found it not at all disagreeable. But the evening was long, and now it was done. For her, anyway. But not for Captain Kirk. The intercom chimed thrice, indicating a room-to-room call.

"Spock to Captain."

Hoping that Spock wasn't going to try and weasel out of visiting Saavik that summer, a wearied Kirk answered.

"Kirk here. What is it, Spock?"

"Jim, I request that you come to my quarters. I have a message for you."

"Can't it be relayed here?"

"You are not ready to receive this message alone."

"That bad, Spock?"

"My analysis was based on my personal knowledge of your psyche, Captain--not on a purely subjective judgement of the message's content. Please come here, as soon as you are able. Spock out."

The words were Classic Spock. Through their bond, Jim felt Spock's relief, as though a secret burden had been lifted somewhat. But for Kirk, this only increased his apprehension. Why, he couldn't say. He cleaned himself, dressed and left.

But upon entering Spock's quarters, he found himself instead in a white void. A man who was not a man was wearing an Admiral's uniform he had not earned--again. Jim snorted in fury, as he often did at the sudden appearances of this entity.

"Q, get off my ship!"

Q tsked Kirk.

"James--no hug for a retired former squire?"

"No hug, no time, and definitely no patience. Now, if you don't mind---"

"Yes--Spock's message. You really aren't ready for it, you know."

Kirk violently shook his head.

"Go away, Q. I'll be no fun for you today. I'm so wound up, I'd blow your little game sky-high."

Q grinned, and Kirk knew he had slipped up somehow.

"Wound up? James, you are right. When the man's right, we give him credit. In fact, you are so wound up--this news will kill you--unless I wind you up even further still. Ready?---Oh wait--of course you're not."

As Kirk vanished, he did not yell Q's name. It was pointless, and he did not wish to give Q the satisfaction of hearing it. Q just shook his head.

"How--Petty."

-------------------------------------

Earth, 2241 - Riverside, Iowa

Jimmy Kirk knew the noise well. It was the noise of the universe ending. The walls fairly shook with fury. He lay in bed with the covers pulled up, like a cocoon. They were of no help. Even Sam was afraid--and Sam was never afraid.

"George---you make a choice--deep space--or the deep commitment you SAY you want to give to your family!"

"Back off, Brianna! Honey, I've told you--I do love the life that Starfleet has provided for me. But its not just that keeping me in. Its that wretched, stupid, pointless Hall. They're using it to form some kind of xenophobic cult. They're grabbing up kids, Bri! Kids who are afraid of the unknown. Filling their minds with hate. Tomas' Cartwright's boy Brock is currently undergoing counseling--deprogramming, really. Did you know they vetoed a proper Vulcanian Expedition?"

"Good! Vulcania is about as deep space as you get. Can't you find something in San Francisco, or Paris?"

"Bri, we both opposed the Hall's construction. Employment on Earth is not an option."

The Janus-faced spy held to her cover story.

"Then we'll move to a starbase where they don't hold sway. George—I need you here. Those boys are driving me crazy. They need their father here. We all need you here."

"I can't be here. You know that. And Bri? Unless he's murdered or raped someone, don't you ever strike Jimmy again."

"He overreacted to one of Sam's pranks! Don't you dare stand outside my life and pass judgement on how I raise children you rarely ever see."

"I'll judge when they're my children! Sam keeps pulling these stunts, but Jimmy gets slapped around. Why, Bri? That much I will know."

Brianna would someday tell Jimmy that she only punished him because Sam seemingly couldn't learn about holding back, so she just gave up trying. But today was not the day for that particular comforting lie.

"The only thing you will know, George, is that I am not renewing the exclusivity clause of our marriage contract. After fifteen years, its time we went in search of others. I will still expect you for as many family events as you can manage. Also, lets both show some decorum in partnering, alright? We still have mutual friends. And I will raise Jimmy as I see fit---got it?"

George shrugged dismissively.

"Then we've got nothing further to discuss, do we?"

It was only by chance that Jimmy's name was mentioned last in this brutal conversation. But the message was one a child's mind could easily misconstrue, and Jimmy's did.

"My parents are getting a divorce, and its all my fault."

In an unthinking rage he would later apologize for, a sniffling Sam added in his two cents.

"Yeah, it is."

----------------------------------------

Back in the void, Kirk was confused.

"But I saw that change coming, even then. I was ready."

Q smirked.

"Were You?"

----------------------------------------

California, 2245

Aurelan Sorel stood and frowned at Jimmy.

"You want what?"

Jimmy felt supreme.

"Fact, Relly. You go on those late-night expeditions with those weird characters. You don't want Sam to know. So you have to do this for me--or I'll tell him--even if you break my jaw."

Aurelan sighed. Her nocturnal activities were too dangerous to let Sam be involved--and she couldn't kill Jimmy. Closing the door to the guest room he was staying in, she reluctantly acquiesced to his demand.

"Jimmy--this is once, or I will hurt you. Look--but don't touch. All right?"

"Just quit talking and show them to me."

Aurelan casually removed her sweater, and then her shirt. She was not wearing a bra. Jimmy was dumbstruck.

"Boobs!"

He was hard in an instant. Aurelan let him stare, and felt an odd kind of illicit thrill at the awe she inspired in her 11-year old voyeur. But the thrill could not overcome other, darker emotions.

"Relly! What're you...."

She kissed Jimmy full on the mouth, confusing the horny adolescent and scaring him. She then pushed his face to her breasts. In shock, he pulled away.

Relly smiled.

"What's wrong, Jimmy? Did someone force you to do something you didn't want to?"

Jimmy was shaking. He should have enjoyed it, but somehow he couldn't. It was wrong. Very wrong.

"You creep."

"Takes one to know one, Jimmy. Now, you do something for me."

"What?"

Her face grew stern, and it was all he could see, despite her still-bare chest.

"Take your little hand, grab your LITTLE dick, and you, Jimmy Kirk, go and FUCK yourself!!!"

Aurelan left, having only thrown on her sweater, and slamming the door as she went. Angry as hell, Jimmy unzipped, grabbed the shirt she had forgotten, and rubbed it against his face til he shot off. He later looked in the refresher mirror, and tried to think of comeback lines to Relly's angry tirade. But he only saw himself, and gave his self-assessment.

"You--are a complete scumbag, Jimmy."

-----------------------------------------

Kirk stood and stared into the infinity of blank sameness.

"That doesn't count. Stupid and selfish as I was, I knew Relly would be angry. I was ready for that."

Q's retort was particularly arrogant.

"Oh, Q, I gave them eyes, but they will not see. Moving right along. Past childhood--into Captaincy--to a certain Spring day in your narrowly counted year of 2268."

"No, Q--Not----"

--------------------------------------------------

Iowa, 2268

The Preacher spoke from the heart. He had been a friend of the family for decades. Now, there were two less of that family left. Brianna's funeral had been a day earlier. Jim had held out hope that Peter's body would be found. But a grave marker would be all that told the universe that Peter Claudius Kirk ever existed.

"The death of a child seems always the greatest of tragedies. Peter's life was brimfull of tragedies, starting from the death of his grandfather, likely on the very day he was born. But he loved, and was loved, by so many. I have been told that the Crew of his beloved Uncle's ship regarded him highly, saw his courage under adversity, and drew inspiration from it. One of that crew, Upenda Nyota Uhura, will lead us in a song that I hope will be ecumenical enough for all who mourn here today. I am reminded, as well I might be, of another Peter, who faced adversity with courage, who died a sad death, but who was told by Christ : You Are The Rock, Upon Which, I Shall Build A World That Shall Shatter Satan's Evil, And Turn Away The False Power Of Hate. Against This Rock, Shall The Dragon At Last Know Defeat.' And so he shall. For if that boy could not be broken by tragedy, then there is truly hope for us all."

Uhura stood up, then, with McCoy's help. Kirk sat, and did not stir. Scotty readied his bagpipes. Uhura spoke briefly.

"To say that I loved that boy would be so inadequate, I'd fear for my eternal soul afterwards. He was the heart of our ship, for that one month. Our young hero, who showed us all what a hero really is. He also showed us that our Captain was no fluke. He suffered as few others have, and as no little boy ever should. I had hopes-- dreams really--of maybe one day seeing another Enterprise Captain named Kirk. Now, that dream is done. Peter, your suffering is done. Without you--ours begins. But we will hold your memory. That will have to be enough."

Then, the song began.

"Amazing Grace, How Sweet The Sound; That Saved A Wretch Like Me; I Once Was Lost; But Now I'm Found; Was Blind But Now I See."

Throughout it all, James Kirk's soul remained a wasteland, blasted empty by lightning from an unseen foe.

His Grandparents. His Parents. His Brother. A woman like his own sister, despite the sexual feelings they shared. His sons. Legalisms aside, they were his sons. Little Marc, found dead of neglect. Kirk thanked God afterwards that there was no visible decay on the infant. But he wasn't thanking God today.

A baby in his arms, and the forming of an instant bond. A toddler whose face lit up whenever he saw his 'UncaJim'. A proud older brother, joyfully handling the exhaustive care and feeding of the infant Marc. A hero, of the caliber that Uhura described. A teenager, writing letters of complaint about his once-vicious grandmother. His son. Gone, now. Taken in the night. James Kirk cursed God for his misfortunes, but felt no better for it. Then, a miracle occurred.

"Captain Kirk?"

Jim looked up. The God he had cursed still moved in mysterious ways. He hadn't even realized that Carol and David Marcus were in attendance. Two of Jim's sons were dead. A third---was right in front of him. He could not smile, but tried hard to keep from frowning again.

"Hello, David."

"You remember me?"

"Well, sure. After all, a man doesn't forget having a plate of spaghetti thrown at him."

"Sorry. And I'm sorry about your mother, and your nephew. Him especially. My Mom says he went through a lot."

"Yes, he did. He was good in school, too, like your Mom says you are..."

Almost as though sensing danger, Carol walked over to them like a shot.

"Ok, David! Let's leave Captain Kirk be."

"But, Mom, we were just...."

"Don't argue, David. I need to speak with him a minute."

"Good seeing you again, Captain."

Walking off dejected, David then spotted Mister Spock, and told him of a bizarre dream he had---about Peter Kirk being alive, and held in 'The Hall'. This would have enormous repercussions, years later. For now, though, Jim stared hard at Carol.

"Do you think that little of me, Carol? Do you think I'd use today as an excuse to tell him, especially right after I asked you not to?"

Carol was puzzled.

"You were serious about that?"

Jim looked at Peter's headstone.

"They've declared open season on Kirks, Carol. For David's sake—its best if no one knew--even him."

"I just get nervous, Jim. It all seemed like a potential dirty trick on your part."

Badly chosen words have a way of cascading into pure chaos. Jim shook his head.

"Doctor, take your son and go. When the queen of dirty tricks starts casting aspersions, she better run quickly thereafter."

Carol shrugged.

"I'm not going anywhere. You can't just throw me out like this. I won't have it."

That day, at his lowest level, Jim was ready for Carol's way of doing things, and shot back straight between her eyes.

"Go, quietly, or not only will I tell David who his father is, but how his mother had him on purpose--and why!!"

More stunned than angry, Carol quietly left. She and Kirk would  not speak again for ten years.

-----------------------------------------

Kirk leapt at Q, who vanished and reappeared.

"Temper, Temper, Mon-ooooff!!"

Kirk's blow landed hard.

"Solar, Plexus, Q, you heartless piece of shit!"

Q only grinned as he gasped.

"Well, in any event, now you're ready for Spock's news."

"Why, if I was unready before? Q, I was ready for Carol that day. Maybe too ready. What in those sequences shows my unreadiness?"

Q snapped his fingers.

"Glad You Asked."

----------------------------------

Earth, 2241

"Whatever I said, Jimmy--its not your fault. I know how I get. But please don't pull away, little brother."

-------------------------------------

Earth, 2244

"Look. I should've just told you 'No' in the first place. And I really shouldn't have kissed you or--geez, I can't believe I pushed your face in them! Jimmy, from now on, your not just Sam's little brother, but mine, too. We'll call the stupid things we did for our version of one of Sam's stupid pranks. Ok?"

"Ok, Relly. But can I say one last thing?"

"Sure."

"My big sister has a set on her!"

"Perv. Gimme a hug...Jimmy, don't pull away! After all, you've tasted the no-sweater edition!"

-----------------------------------------------

"Q, what about the funeral?"

"Jimmy--Part two of that---is about to be written in Spock's cabin. And this time, you must not pull away. You never handle good news very well."

With that, Q vanished and Kirk returned.

"Years of management by crisis. Living by crisis. Breathing by crisis. Good news is not to be trusted. Pull away before you become--vulnerable."

Kirk signaled at Spock's door.

"But not today. Thank You, Q."

Spock saw Kirk enter.

"Jim, sit down. My father wishes to speak with you." Kirk saw Sarek on monitor.

"Ambassador Sarek, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Sarek, impossibly, seemed to be fighting back a smile.

"James, the pleasure is a great one indeed. I have a young man who wishes to speak with you."

Kirk wondered what a young Vulcan would wish to say to him.

"Well, put him on, then. I'd be.. delighted to speak with him."

Jim was confused over all the secrecy. He turned and saw Spock calmer than he'd been since the liberation of Hellguard. Then, it happened.

The boy was human in appearance. His face and features--were Jim's once, albeit with dark hair instead of sandy brown. He knew instantly it was not a hoax of any kind.

The baby in his arms. The toddler, so glad to see his Unca Jim. The older brother, in caring and in mourning. The 'rebellious' grandson. The boy-man who had, in the best tradition of his family, beaten the grave and one day, would face King Death itself in pitched battle. For he was the boy from the story. The Rock Of Prophecy. The son of James T. Kirk had returned from the dead. The son didn't hide his tears as he looked at the father. Nor did The father.

"Peter?!!!!!"

The son uttered words he had waited to say through ten years of pure Hell.

"Uncle Jim? I'm Alive."

Jim touched the screen, and prayed to a God he was again on speaking terms with that he could reach through the screen and touch him, and dry those tears.

As they talked, Jim knew that Q had been right to show him that life marches on, despite those seemingly indestructible moments. To see it through, one needs simply accept one's inherent unreadiness. That, and one must not pull away. For the best and the worst moments in life are united by a common thread - they only happen once.