Chapter Text
Johnny is tired of feeling useless. Tired of people looking down on him. Tired of being disliked for petty reasons. Riverside is a small town, for all that it houses a significantly sized shuttle dock and shipyard, almost everyone knowing everyone else. And everyone knows him. He's not like Jim Kirk, who revels in the spotlight, who laughs on the face of scorn. He just wants people to like him.
But no one does.
He has no friends to speak of, his parents dote on his baby sister and elder brother, leaving him stuck in the affectionless middle ground. His brother greatly enjoys rubbing their parents seeming lack of care in his face. His sister is a naughty little toddler that just loves to blame things on him, their parents never believing that their darling little angel could be behind anything.
So one day, he leaves.
He packs his bag, writes his note, ties on his shoes, and starts walking. Riverside only has one main road coming in and out, and he follows it out, hoping he would hit the big city eventually. No one would be able to find him there, one person among hundreds, thousands even. He would be just as insignificant as he felt.
He hears a car approaching from behind, and sticks out his thumb, hoping for a lift. But no friendly adult drives this car. Instead, it’s Jim Kirk’s bleached blonde head that turns to shout his name, waving frantically all the while. He gapes after the speeding car, blinking in surprise (but not really, it is Jim).
Sirens blare behind him, a police cruiser straining to catch the crazy barely-teen. Soon, all he can see is a dust cloud in the distance, headed for the old quarry. He stops walking and starts to think about Jim. The other boy has no family to care for him, his mother always on missions for starfleet, Frank having given up on connecting with the boy after one too many stunts. Everyone knew him as the troublemaker, the disappeared then back again Kirk, the son of a federation hero.
He thinks about himself. He remembers the first few months after his baby sister came home from the hospital, how he could always get her to smile, or stop her tears. He remembers the day his brother scared off the older boy that had taken to bullying him at lunch times, sneering and stating that no one gets to make his brother sad but him. He remembers his mother, sitting next to his bed and keeping him company the winter he ran a fever for a week. He remembers his father, sneaking him the odd hot chocolate in bed with a whispered ‘don't tell mum’.
He starts to walk again.
This time, he is walking home. No, not walking. His pace picks up and he runs. Not faster than he ever has before, that would be stupid and cliché, let alone the fact he has a heavy pack on his back. He wants to go home, where he does matter. Where his sister, for all that she gets him in trouble, comes to him when she's sad, waits. Where his brother, for all that he can be a jerk, won't let anyone else push his little brother around, wallows. For where his parents, who try so hard but have only so much time, are probably worried sick.
He kicks up dust with every step and bounds up the driveway. He throws the front door open and steps into the lounge to see his whole family, mother crying, father shocked, brother pale, sister confused. ‘We didn't know’ their faces say ‘we're sorry’ say their tears.
He smiles.
They do care. He's not so insignificant after all. Forget everyone else, his family loves him.
That's all he needs.