[He didn't call. And that's how she knew something was wrong. It could have been something as simple as an ion storm frying the Enterprise's communications array to what actually happened where his ship was attacked, crashed, burned and he survived by the skin of his teeth. Again.
They're a far cry from their relationship fifteen years ago. Probably they'll never be that close, that both mother and son carry scars that won't ever heal and were never there in another universe. The only thing perhaps that has stayed constant is that they always talk on his birthday. If she cried more than she laughed for his first three birthdays, then he was too young to remember it anyway and Winona is self aware enough to know losing George changed everything. She doesn't need to know about time travel and parallel universes to know that. She'd never planned on kids before him and then she had two that needed raising without their father and oh how she hated that Romulan for taking it from her and George himself for leaving her in this fucking mess alone.
So no, she's never going to win any motherhood awards. She never gave up the stars, not because she loved them more than her boys but because being in space was the one dream she had left and she'd given up enough. Winona made the effort on Jimmy's birthday. A cake when she was planetside. A vid call when she wasn't. The latter may have been more common and she remembers how excited he was at five for the quick conversation and how bitter he was at twenty.
It doesn't escape her notice either that Jim's turning thirty this year. She doesn't worry much when her message goes unanswered. For twenty four hours, and then news starts to trickle in about an attack at Yorktown and the loss of the Enterprise. She's too goddamn old to fall apart when no one can tell her one way or another if Captain Kirk survived. So even as her captain is getting orders to change course to Yorktown to provide support and relief as needed, she's calling in favors because she needs to know what she's heading into. If she's burying another Kirk. Being George Kirk's widow still gets her some leverage, even if she goes by Davies these days.
She misses the birthday party his crew threw for him but she does manage to get a message to him. A short simple thing that says Happy birthday. I love you. My ship will be docking in three days at Yorktown. and she doesn't demand that he meet her the instant she gets there-- but it's a weight off her shoulders she didn't realize was there when he is all the same. She's not crying goddamnit but she is bypassing protocol because her son might outrank her but he is getting a hug and he better just damn well go with it.
Maybe there's a little tears in her eyes. She can still ground him though, just try and stop her.]
[ Jim, only days before it all went to hell for he and his crew, had every intention of calling. He always calls her the day of. Always. Even if it's a blip in the void of space where he can just tell her that he's doing ok. Even if it's only a transmitted message cause they missed each other again.
They may not have what they once did, but they get by with what they do. Neither of them can make up for the failures that reside on either side of the line between them, but sometimes they can bridge the gap. Still, his relationship with his ma is better than the one he has with his brother, Sam. You don't get to talk about her! Boy, that'd been a hell of a conversation that he hadn't wanted to do over subspace comms that could glitch out at random.
Thirty years old this year, and in a way it feels like a victory. In a way it sits in his stomach like a rock, grows out and turns the rest of his chest tight like stone, and he forgets how to breathe. He hacked the comms in the Academy once. Hacked them to find answers about his dad that he never got from Sam or his mother or even Pike. Gaila asked him once if it would help, if he'd get answers from listening to it. He got enough, and she was the only person who ever knew that he had a copy of the final transmission of the USS KELVIN. They're looking for your halo. He remembers a fellow cadet telling him about the stares. They say angels have them. Even sons of angels.
Still, he puts on a show that isn't completely one when Bones throws him a party with the crew. He doesn't celebrate, Bones knows, but he doesn't want to spoil the day. He can't argue that it isn't one of the better birthdays he's had in his life, but it still weighs on him. Like there's that stone in his gut. Between that, the medical checkouts, the briefings, and everything else in between, he's barely had time to breathe, eat, and sleep. Forget about checking communications that aren't marked IMPORTANT or URGENT. He's half-asleep, coffee five hours cold, and eyes aching from the strain of the holos he's been sifting through when he finally reaches where his ma's had been buried. It warms him, more than he can really articulate even to himself, and he sends a quick response: I'll meet you at the docks. Love you too.
Even if it means he barely gets three hours of sleep in the interim after checking the docking schedules for the day.
He's waiting there in civilian clothes, black jacket, navy shirt, blue jeans, and boots. He's still sporting a hell of a shiner, but at least it is starting to fade. Protocol is the last thing he's thinking of when he finally sees her, tears in her eyes, and that tightness in his chest moves to his throat, cutting off his voice. He wraps his arms around her, ducking his face down against her shoulder, and ignoring the slowing steps and looks getting thrown their way.
When he finally finds his voice, it's rough with unshed tears, and muffled by her uniform. ]
M'sorry I didn't get a chance to call. [ A watery laugh. ] I was a little busy.
[Oh fuck the people who stare. They're always going to. They stared at when she was a grieving widow. They're going to keep staring because of everything Jim is and has done and will do. It's the first time they've been face to face in a few years now and that's the nature of their jobs but she's going to enjoy her hug, goddamnit.
He's tall, like George used to be, like she imagines Sammy is now though she hasn't made it out to Deneva to be absolutely certain. That relationship is probably even more broken then hers with her younger son and she won't thank Starfleet for it but working for the same organization helped. Winona presses her face against his hair, smothering a watery smile there. He's alive and safe, which is what really matters.]
I've heard that. [She picks up her head and ruffles his hair.] You look like shit by the way.
no subject
They're a far cry from their relationship fifteen years ago. Probably they'll never be that close, that both mother and son carry scars that won't ever heal and were never there in another universe. The only thing perhaps that has stayed constant is that they always talk on his birthday. If she cried more than she laughed for his first three birthdays, then he was too young to remember it anyway and Winona is self aware enough to know losing George changed everything. She doesn't need to know about time travel and parallel universes to know that. She'd never planned on kids before him and then she had two that needed raising without their father and oh how she hated that Romulan for taking it from her and George himself for leaving her in this fucking mess alone.
So no, she's never going to win any motherhood awards. She never gave up the stars, not because she loved them more than her boys but because being in space was the one dream she had left and she'd given up enough. Winona made the effort on Jimmy's birthday. A cake when she was planetside. A vid call when she wasn't. The latter may have been more common and she remembers how excited he was at five for the quick conversation and how bitter he was at twenty.
It doesn't escape her notice either that Jim's turning thirty this year. She doesn't worry much when her message goes unanswered. For twenty four hours, and then news starts to trickle in about an attack at Yorktown and the loss of the Enterprise. She's too goddamn old to fall apart when no one can tell her one way or another if Captain Kirk survived. So even as her captain is getting orders to change course to Yorktown to provide support and relief as needed, she's calling in favors because she needs to know what she's heading into. If she's burying another Kirk. Being George Kirk's widow still gets her some leverage, even if she goes by Davies these days.
She misses the birthday party his crew threw for him but she does manage to get a message to him. A short simple thing that says Happy birthday. I love you. My ship will be docking in three days at Yorktown. and she doesn't demand that he meet her the instant she gets there-- but it's a weight off her shoulders she didn't realize was there when he is all the same. She's not crying goddamnit but she is bypassing protocol because her son might outrank her but he is getting a hug and he better just damn well go with it.
Maybe there's a little tears in her eyes. She can still ground him though, just try and stop her.]
no subject
They may not have what they once did, but they get by with what they do. Neither of them can make up for the failures that reside on either side of the line between them, but sometimes they can bridge the gap. Still, his relationship with his ma is better than the one he has with his brother, Sam. You don't get to talk about her! Boy, that'd been a hell of a conversation that he hadn't wanted to do over subspace comms that could glitch out at random.
Thirty years old this year, and in a way it feels like a victory. In a way it sits in his stomach like a rock, grows out and turns the rest of his chest tight like stone, and he forgets how to breathe. He hacked the comms in the Academy once. Hacked them to find answers about his dad that he never got from Sam or his mother or even Pike. Gaila asked him once if it would help, if he'd get answers from listening to it. He got enough, and she was the only person who ever knew that he had a copy of the final transmission of the USS KELVIN. They're looking for your halo. He remembers a fellow cadet telling him about the stares. They say angels have them. Even sons of angels.
Still, he puts on a show that isn't completely one when Bones throws him a party with the crew. He doesn't celebrate, Bones knows, but he doesn't want to spoil the day. He can't argue that it isn't one of the better birthdays he's had in his life, but it still weighs on him. Like there's that stone in his gut. Between that, the medical checkouts, the briefings, and everything else in between, he's barely had time to breathe, eat, and sleep. Forget about checking communications that aren't marked IMPORTANT or URGENT. He's half-asleep, coffee five hours cold, and eyes aching from the strain of the holos he's been sifting through when he finally reaches where his ma's had been buried. It warms him, more than he can really articulate even to himself, and he sends a quick response: I'll meet you at the docks. Love you too.
Even if it means he barely gets three hours of sleep in the interim after checking the docking schedules for the day.
He's waiting there in civilian clothes, black jacket, navy shirt, blue jeans, and boots. He's still sporting a hell of a shiner, but at least it is starting to fade. Protocol is the last thing he's thinking of when he finally sees her, tears in her eyes, and that tightness in his chest moves to his throat, cutting off his voice. He wraps his arms around her, ducking his face down against her shoulder, and ignoring the slowing steps and looks getting thrown their way.
When he finally finds his voice, it's rough with unshed tears, and muffled by her uniform. ]
M'sorry I didn't get a chance to call. [ A watery laugh. ] I was a little busy.
no subject
He's tall, like George used to be, like she imagines Sammy is now though she hasn't made it out to Deneva to be absolutely certain. That relationship is probably even more broken then hers with her younger son and she won't thank Starfleet for it but working for the same organization helped. Winona presses her face against his hair, smothering a watery smile there. He's alive and safe, which is what really matters.]
I've heard that. [She picks up her head and ruffles his hair.] You look like shit by the way.