Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My vision was blurred by blood and dirt as I squinted up at what would be my demise. The silhouette of a humanoid stood before them. I can barely hold myself up, my body wished for nothing more than to give up, screaming at me to finally rest. To close my eyes and give in, for what was left now? I already tried everything. But no. I wanted, no, needed to do the exact opposite. To carry on despite the certainty of death looming over me. My ears rang and my lungs ached something fierce. I can only feel the numbness that could only be caused by adrenaline. This can only be the cause, as his multiple ,extensive injuries should be causing him nothing but agony.

Movement flickered in my peripherals, catching my wavering attention, my eyes tearing away to look for the source of it.

It was my crew, all in conditions that were not at all different from his. Despite my clear orders to evacuate, his crew stubbornly remained, refusing with a vehemence to leave him behind, calling him crazy for even thinking that they'd leave me to deal with this alone. And so, despite their shared agony, he can't help but feel a wave of relief about it, selfish relief that they'd stayed behind with him, relief that he didn't have to die alone.

Shaking off the clawing, beckoning feeling of oblivion inside his own head, he wills himself to stay and focus. 

It took much more effort than he would like to admit.

There, leaning against one another, was Sulu and Chekov, the latter was barely conscious and the former determined to continue despite having received a huge gash in his stomach, drenching his gold uniform to a clashing and sickening red. They were both close, even now in the face of their inevitable death. 

Jim found that he didn't want to stop finding new things to admire about his crew. And yet.

Spock had McCoy on his back, holding his legs up while Bones held loosely onto his neck, his arms being far too weak to even tighten. He glared with a ferocity that suited his namesake. Spock, against all odds, was still standing, or well slouching, a glower of his own showing through along with a split lip. He was covered in his own green blood from his numerous injuries.

Seeing as McCoy was the ship's CMO, one would think he was certainly not a fighter. He disproved this today by doing an act that Spock would certainly call “highly illogical”, if asked. The fight had almost ended prematurely, and certainly not in our favour, but Bones managed to turn the tide, by sacrificing himself. And sacrifice he did, he got grievously injured after being knocked back. Losing the use of his legs in the process.

Possibly forever.

If you asked Jim later (if there was a later), he’d say that Spock generally ‘fought’ like how you’d imagine a Vulcan would. After this act, however, it really seemed like all of Spocks ancestors had a hand in how he fought. He gave it his all, releasing all the cards he had in his arsenal, against this one evil.

It's a tragedy that no one would hear the tale of what he did, lost as everything was.

Uhura was collapsed on the ground, her body was far too damaged to continue any further, but her arm was still lifted high with a steely determination, phaser focused evenly towards the enemy despite the fact that her body should be by all means, otherwise disabled. She challenged the odds quite frequently, he'd say. 

Behind her was Scotty's body, he was unconscious for the latter half of this battle. hopefully. He was one of the main MVPS of the fight, alongside even He and Spock. Unfortunately, unlike him and Spock, he was far more vulnerable. A more easy target. He was, unfortunately, deemed a priority from the start with how much damage he was causing.

Spock's eyes met mine abruptly. I jolted slightly, not expecting it. We end up staring each other down, a wordless conversation of things left unsaid. Gradually both of their gazes grew more and more solemn, losing more of the fire that stayed with them for the duration of this entire debacle. Both were filled with drives to fight to the very end, but now that they had. There was nothing left for them. 

My eyes wander again, wanting to see them one last time. I noticed that Uhura's eyes were filled with acceptance. Sulu seemed to be in denial, cradling his best friend a little closer, both exchanging seemingly intimate words.

I looked away quickly, it felt like I was intruding on their moment. My eyes landed on bones.

Bones.

Now that he looks at him, Bones seems sad now. No, he's not sad. Sorrowful. No. Mournful. No- It's hard to put into words. His eyes have got this.. look. This sheen to it.. Devastation. The only one he was staring at, was Jim, like he was watching his worst nightmare playing out and could do nothing about it. His hands were twitching, his expression was desperate. He is now completely ignoring the dangers in front of them, only focusing his sole attention on the people that surrounded him.

Jim knew that Leonard had, and always will, love them. He cared. He cared so much that it hurt him. It ruined him. 

He had tried his best to bury it deep within, when they first met. But he seemed to be incapable of that. Even Bones himself knew that. He already made peace with it. He let Jim in, the full force of his sheer loyalty was concentrated solely on Jim. For a while Jim was the only one he had left to do that with.

Then along strode in Spock, all graceful like, enamoring them both. At first Bones was rather resistant to him, aghast at his apparent disregard of emotion, something that was so sacred to him.  He just couldn't comprehend how someone could live like that. Because he sure as hell couldn't.

His loyalty, however, had a mind of its own, and before they both knew it, the force of his loyalty had extended to Spock. Then Uhura. Then Scotty, Sulu, Chapel and so on. It didn't take long for his loyalty to encompass the whole bridge. He felt for everyone on a whole different wavelength than anyone Jim has ever known. Bone’s only competition for this was Spock.

This..

This whole situation may as well have been Bone’s worst nightmare. Sure, he knew on some level that something like this was going to happen. In their line of work it was to be expected. However, It was a whole different experience to have it actually happen in front of you. It was.. devastation.

I try to do my best to give bones a winning smile. It probably came out slightly shaky. Bones only looked more wretched. His mouth trembling he called to me, his eyes growing wider as his gaze went behind me. He was probably getting desperate.

I can't hear what he's saying, I could only look at bones with burning, watery eyes, knowing exactly what was running through his head. I can do nothing, but watch.

A sudden loud, shrieking sounded right behind me, knocking me out of my abrupt introspective mood. I immediately whip around, blinking the water from my eyes. Finally noticing the bright orange glow that was collecting right in behind me.

Oh, guess he didn't always know what others were thinking, apparently.

My mouth fell open, knowing that what I was facing was my demise. The inevitable death of James T. Kirk had finally come today of all days. It was supposed to be an unbearably normal day, just this morning. He never would have thought-

His train of thought went off the proverbial rails, when suddenly Spock came out of seemingly nowhere, skidding in front of him with his arms outstretched, as if to block him from the brunt of it all.

He was barely standing. His legs were shaking uncontrollably, grunts of pain coming from him. He himself had self-diagnosed that his leg’s nerves have been severely damaged. He said so himself that it felt painful to even stand. 

Him. Admit he's hurt?

It didn't paint a good picture.

I shut my eyes tightly, and tried to prepare for..something. I didn't know what exactly.

Seconds turn into a minute, and I attempt to open my eyes, only for it to seem like some sort of colossal task. I'm not too surprised, we have been fighting these guys for about 2 days now.

But I can still see. The orange light had disappeared 20 seconds ago, and now it was either off or super dim. No it actually seemed more like a green than anything now.

I open my mouth and say.

“Spock? Are you there?”

An eerie silence follows, as my eyebrows furrow.

Not what I was expecting since the place we were fighting had a ton of echoes. I'm still numb, so maybe I just fell asleep? Did they take us as prisoners?? It seemed unlikely by how they acted but it's a possibility.

I couldn't let myself hope that we were rescued. It was impossible but just maybe..

“Spock! Anyone! Status?” I call in my most authoritative tone that had officers older than him jolting from a deep sleep.

Silence. Then a faint grumble of something. My breath hitches. What was that? Was that a..kid?

More grumbles, and just as i open my mouth to ask questions i hear a familiar voice say-

“Jimmy, go back to bed you weirdo..” My older brother Sam kirk mutters darkly.

My eyes shoot open despite the exhaustion I was facing, I squint in the darkness that was only lit by familiar green stars. My hair was at the edges of my vision, definitely longer than regulation. I tilt my head to the side with all my strength and then. 

I can only stare.

Sam kirk. My older brother, who died a long time ago, was right next to me. Younger than ever, god he couldn't be more than 7, maybe 6 years old? He was as grumpy as a kid can be, turned away from me in my old bed, curled up in a little blanket that I had the most of.

My blurry eyes dart down to my..hand. Huh. Smaller than i..thought.

I clear my dry throat.

“Sammy?” I ask in a wobbly, higher pitched voice. “Is that really you? Are you..there?”

That got Sam's attention as he slowly turned toward me, squinting. His eyes were almost black in the darkness.

“Wha?” he asks, blearily. “Yeah..” He rubs his eyes.

An involuntary noise came out of me then, not anything I've heard of before. I felt water going down my cheeks as I curled into myself a bit more. I felt a distant, small hand on my shoulder and Sam's voice above my head asking me questions.

I can only shake my head. What was going on? 

I'm so confused. It's just- too much! My head hurts!

I hear the yelling get more frantic as some more voices join in. it's bright now, too bright and all i feel are hands. I drift off. It's too much.

I fall asleep to the feeling of being lifted up.

Like old times.

Chapter Text

It was dark. Not pitch black, as I can still see some light, but dark enough to know that my eyes are simply closed.

Being unconscious was familiar, but with some key differences to the ones i've faced previously. I could hear voices, muffled but I could make out some words. Words that were sometimes reassurances, promises and just updates of how things were going. I could feel a large hand on mine, larger than ever, that came and went. I wont kid myself, I couldn't really articulate any of it. It was a bizarre feeling.

I am lying on my back, and It seems like my old level of sensory touch has decided to make a comeback, as I can feel the soft texture of the hospital bed I'm lying in. I can hear the typical hospital beeping sounds and the smell of antiseptic. I can taste the residue of ice-cream and popcorn on my tongue. All i could recall was the tail end of a battle and then finding myself at an familiar environment, I react, a familiar voice and then-

Sammy!

My eyes flash open and I immediately sit up. Then I let out a breathy gasp and as I started to cough. Ugh, vertigo is no joke. I groan softly, the sound of it was higher pitched than what I'm used to hearing, I noted distantly, before I began to take stock of my surroundings as I've been trained to do.

I see the end of my hospital bed, the outline of my small legs in the colorful patterned sheets that were designated for children under the age of 8. Should I be offended? Probably not, but it doesn't necessarily change the fact that I am. Although i think i probably get a pass for it, considering, well. I shake my head sharply with a snort, my blond downy hair going in various different directions. ‘I'm off my a-game today, aren't i?’ I think ruefully.

I glance to the window momentarily, the brightness catching my eye. My eyes widened comically. The window has the bustling of the city outside of it, not my hometown iowa. Hover cars go high in the air, the sounds outside were being muted by the glass and the distance. The sunlight streamed in with a wispy white curtain, the sky was a beautiful blue with fluffy white clouds framing the sun in a tasteful way that made me feel as though I was in some sort of postcard. nonetheless, it made me feel a tad bit better. I haven't seen the earth sky in ages.

I blink my straining eyes. Must've looked a tad bit too long at the sun. The spots were still there as I tilted my head deeper into the hospital room. I could barely make out the Colorful wallpaper and the rug with various animals printed on it. I couldn't make out what exactly they were just yet though. My eyes traveled further and I spotted three figures nestled deeper into the room. Slumped near the doorway. The hospital room I was in was equipped with a small seating area, apparently. Fancy.

They had to be my family. Of whom I haven't seen in quite a long time. Hum.

Mom, dad and Sam were just right there, presumably. I couldn't see their faces, or even if they were asleep or awake. ‘Are they sleeping? Or are they awake? It's been silent for way too long for them to be awake otherwise. Right?’ I think nervously, picking at my admittedly fairly comfortable blanket.

The spots were being nuisances, making this whole experience a little more creepy than it probably should have been. I smiled shakily and laughed slightly at the thought. Gosh who knew spots could stick around this long.

One of the figures moves, making me jump slightly. It falters but continues getting up. It came closer and I could steadily see the blond hair. The uniform they were wearing. The boots he still wore, that I remember holding onto to keep him from going to work all those times in the seemingly distant past. The hands that were at his sides. Hands that I remember teaching me to hoverboard, a dad who inspired my dreams and lit up my nights with stories of the cosmos, of adventures and disguised lessons.

“Dad?” I ask, my eyes were already leaking. “Is that you?” My now childish voice cracks, either from dehydration or emotion. My hands instinctively reached out to him, like it was a mere muscle memory that I was hopeless against.

The silhouette, now gaining more and more detail by the second, jolts minutely before immediately rushing over. Blond hair comes to view with detailed yellows and browns. Hands bigger than ever, wrap around me, pulling me into an encompassing, ridiculously warm hug.

Petting and nosing at my downy hair, my father says with a voice so brittle;

“Thank god you’re okay, Jimmy.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, dots finally disappearing. Moisture drips into my hair and hospital gown. My arms go around my dads shaking neck and I hide my face away.

“Whath happened dad?” I embarrassingly lisp, my own voice also wobbling.

I felt him jolt slightly, before; “You were…You slept for a long time.” He says haltingly. Pulling back he looks me in the eye. “You slept for three days straight. I'm so sorry Jimmy but you.. missed your birthday.” He then stares at me like I'm a ticking time bomb after he delivers the news.

Four years old. I just turned four. My body, that my adult brain is currently inhabiting, just turned four. Gosh four year old me would’ve definitely freaked at the news but I missed my birthday more times than i can count, i mean, i'm an adult! Not some four year old toddler!

I look down and clench my sheets in my hands trying to get my reactions in check. 

I mean, it is pretty cool, don't get him wrong but still! It is rather humiliating isn't it? I mean, if this were like his previous adventures then he should be saved anytime now. It will be a tad weird to be a toddler in front of the crew, not really good for PR, y’know? 

But then again, that fight, it-

“Jimmy?” My dad asks softly. Reaching up from where he had crouched down next to my bed, to run a hand through my hair. “It's okay. We’ll figure something out for you, but for now I have to call in a few people and wake your mother and brother. Okay?” He says regretfully. Searching my face for my reaction. Scrutinizing. 

I blink. Then I flash a patented jim kirk smile and a quick affirmative. Now it's my dad's turn to blink. In bewilderment, he says he'll be right back, and haltingly gets up to call a nurse. Shooting me several concerned looks over his shoulder. I curse, in my head of course. Right. I'm a 3 year old kid who just got told his birthday was virtually canceled. That's not how kids react to news like that! Especially toddlers, I reacted how an adult would! I'm in the hospital for passing out and losing myself in a 3 day coma! Changes like that are a big deal to any doctor! Way to raise a red flag.

I sigh heavily after my dad hastily makes his exit to try and find a personnel to check me out. Gosh i really scared him. Slightly disappointed at myself for not seeing how that would bite me in the ass, I'm hit with the realization that the spots are gone. Good, that was getting slightly concerning.

I glance over at the figures and yep, that's my mom and brother. I blink. Apparently my dad forgot to wake her up.

I tilt my head to try to get a better look at them. Moms long blond hair and Sam's short brown hair are all I can really see. They seemed to have brought a ton of supplies with them. Practically camping in my hospital room. Those chairs cannot be comfortable.

It was about 5 minutes later that a nurse showed up with my dad in tow, waking both my mom and my brother. They were complaining about the uncomfortable chairs, so I ended up being right about that.

I think the perceived rest that my body got managed to keep my breakdown at bay so that I can deal with all of that later. But that didn't exactly matter since I definitely raised some alarm bells in everyone's head, especially to the professionals in the room. They were trained to have a keen eye on that sort of thing, no?

Anyway, they actually brought in a few child psychologists after they looked me over. Apparently they found little wrong with my body, as my body showed little biological reason to have caused my temporary coma. They could only have speculated.

I went through a brain scan, and sat with my tense family as we waited for the staff to analyze it. The time was too great for my older brother and dad took him to a vending machine, leaving me with mom. However before they left, they all stared at me with concern. I realized my blunder when I looked at myself from their lens. They're resident four year old, who has just gone through a three day coma, was now acting out of character. Yeah, needless to say I'd be pretty concerned too.

I struggled whether or not to charm my way out of their concern when I was hit by the realization that doing so would not be helping matters. At all! Luckily, or unluckily, they headed off while I was still in deep thought. Mom asked a few questions and made some conversation points. I'm sure four year old Jimmy would have loved it, but I was a tad out of it. I actually just ended up not talking at all and just mutley nodded at her attempts. That unnerved her enough that she stopped. 

I wish I could have figured my way around doing that to my mom but at the same time, well. I don't know. Something understandable I assure you. *

Our other two family members got back with an assortment of snacks, but a passing nurse told us that i shouldn't have any as some of the hypos/medications the doctors may give me might need an empty stomach to work. So that was a pretty big disappointment. Our parents ended up whispering, definitely about moms' failed conversations with me or also known as, my unusually little engagement with her.

When the doctors came back they were already visibly nervous, and keyed up about it. The doctors were solemn when they led my parents away to a private room, but I thought fast and managed to make my way into the room when they talked, not taking no for an answer.

They were obviously hesitant but ended up giving in after my parents told them of Kirk's unofficial motto. Turns out my brain looks exactly like an adult's brain, but as they haven't done any brain scans at my age yet they didn't have a way to verify if i had this before or if i've developed these changes recently somehow. 

I'm not necessarily surprised about these changes, considering I am an adult in a child's body, though I'm more curious about how a three day coma managed to change that in any sort of way. I couldn't help but wonder if the weapon I was shot with somehow altered anything biological, even here and now.

The pain I went through and the consequent three day recovery I had to go through supports this. However the physical I went through reported nothing untoward. But I suppose it's possible to pass out simply from sheer mental strain. Though if the five year mission served me anything, it's the ability to accept the impossible.

The child psychologists immediately sniffed out that something was wrong when we went to see them 25 minutes later. Not that I expected anything less from trained professionals, I was just a tad bit miffed.

My previous line of thinking didn't help matters as I was acting a tad bit too thoughtful and aware for a four year old. I could tell that they heavily suspected my parents for some sort of foul play with me. It was incredibly uncomfortable but I couldn't find a way to get them on the right track without absolutely confirming their suspicions, whether I wanted to or not so I had no choice but to let my parents handle it. I had to have faith that they would be able to handle themselves I suppose.

I had to colour, make music, play with toys and have conversations. And I have got to say, playing with toys as a mental adult was nerve wracking! Especially while being scrutinized at all sides. I have no doubt that it would be picked apart for every little twitch I made and how that contributed to how I was possibly, i don't know, abused? Traumatized?

I mean, i'm an adult who had went through tarsus Ⅳ as a kid and has been involved in a perilous career of exploring the dangerous field of space. Of course I'm traumatized! Nothing I can do to hide it, even if I truly wanted to. Probably doesn't help that I am possibly in a state of shock, and currently going through the motions that my training had graciously afforded me. 

The next time I'm alone it will be borderline apocalyptic, I can feel it. Not looking forward to it. The only ones I can truly trust to let carry me are gone for now, I can only hope I will be able to put myself together enough to come up with a solid plan.

Chapter Text

After Jim’s recent visit by another psychologist who had finally excused themselves, he had time to think about his situation a little more. He came to the conclusion that proved to be rather hard to swallow.

Jim couldn't do much. At all.

Well, he probably could, but reason tells him that he really shouldn't.

He's obviously scared his family half to death, if he tries anything and gets caught doing it at this current age, well.

He can't even imagine.

It's already been bad enough, the child psychologists all know something is off with him already. It's only a matter of time until one of them starts questioning his parents about possible past traumas. A few of them might even just outright imply or state that he's most likely being abused in some way and will call CPS on them for an investigation.

It might be better if he just comes clean with his current circumstance. I mean, why be so secretive? Well, about that, if Jim keeps his mouth shut about this, he will most likely be taken away from his parents. He can't do that to them. But on the other hand? If he comes clean, he’ll most likely be dismissed, or it will be taken as evidence of a mental illness or something like that. And who knows what will need to be done with him afterwards.

If a species that could tell if he's speaking the truth or not, say a vulcan, confirms it as truth then what then? First of all, why would anyone even check the validity of Jims statements with a vulcan anyway? Secondly, he knows about future events. Major ones. He’ll just be putting a target on his own back as well as his family’s if word got out about that. This is an incredible advantage that Jim couldn't just let go of. He was given a second chance and he's going to do this right. 

He can't have the same ending as last time.

He doesn’t have a whole lot of time left to process things, Jim will only be left alone for a little while longer. The psychologist only stepped out for a second to collect their findings. He wouldn’t exactly be putting it past them if he was under observation right now either.

Jim shook his head. As of right now, freaking out wouldn't do him any good. That much was obvious. He needed a distraction.

The room he was brought in wasn’t much. Lots of natural light, with flowy curtains. A colourful rug was in the middle of the room, with a short table in the middle with Padds on it. Most likely all programmed with childrens books. However, he could probably add more books, preferably to his own reading level.

Wait. That gave Jim an idea. 

He scrambles off the chair that he had been told to sit in and makes a beeline to the table, almost tripping several times in his haste. Jim almost couldn't believe that he didn't think of this before, but he believes he’ll get a free pass for such a mistake just this once.

He seizes the first padd he could get his mitts on, searches for as many supplies as he could find (a stylus that could be taken apart, an additional padd for extra parts, a string he found on the ground yadda yadda) and sits down to get to work on his new project. In plain view of a monitoring system even Jim, with all of his starfleet training, had barely spotted.

After around an hour and a half, longer than he knew was warranted for a ‘second of reviewing findings’ he thought with a grin, he had finished what he had set out doing.

Creating an up to date version of the padd. Not his date, the padds were rather old, even for this place. Jim just improved its performance only to what he deemed would be acceptable standards. Or at least believable.

He messes around on it for a while, playing some popular games and some online chess. He probably switched up his sitting position at least a dozen times, his latest was just him on his stomach laid out with his improved padd on the floor, screen up in front of him. Just when he was finishing up his latest chess game, winning for the fourth time in a row, Jim looking as content as ever, did the door finally open.

His eyes flick up from his screen, tilting and craning it just slightly to the side as though to get a better look. It was the last psychologist, Barrens. Though they weren't alone.

It seemed as though the spectacle he had made had paid off, Jim thought to himself in satisfaction.

Almost everyone Jim had met today was there, he realized, along with his family. His dad must have pulled some strings to have put so many staff members onto his case. 

They all walk in the door, though a majority of them stay by the door while what looked to be the head doctor, or maybe the head psychologist, heads forward to sit across from jim. She held a padd with her, with what seemed to be notes and a form of some sort, from what Jim could get from a single glance he got off the screen.

She glances to the screen and back to Jim, before asking for him to sit in the chair he was sitting in previously. He does so, closing out of the padd, and after a moment's consideration he leaves the padd behind. It's not like he can clean up his work space, so he had to just leave it all like that too.

As Jim started to get comfortable in his seat, she turned to the door where his parents got brought in, being led in by a nurse. Mrs. Head poncho, as he was calling her, clears her throat once everyone has been seated, minus those at the door. “Hello Jimmy, as you well know by now you have been in hospice for over 3 days in a type of coma. We are lucky to have been able to wake you from such a thing in such a short amount of time,” Here she smiles at him momentarily. He blinks.

She turns the warm smile onto his parents, who are holding each other's hands now for support.“Now, Mr. and mrs. Kirk, I believe we have found a possible cause for your son's behavior.” Jim's parents both perk up, looking at each other in trepidation. “After our evaluations of your son, we have all come together to discuss his case and what the possible outcomes could have been possible in this situation. After viewing your son's behavior without interference, we came to the conclusion that he is simply intelligent.” With a smile she gestures to the altered padd.

Both winona and george both blink, at the seemingly lackluster answer. They glance at the padd on the ground, then to me, who is pretending to be entirely innocent.

“Thus we have come to the conclusion to do an iq test of your son. It can be described as a lengthy test, so we give you the option of either taking the test another date, or to just do the test right now.”

Jim's parents glance at one another, then agree to take the test right now.

And thus, the plan worked, with flying colours. A guaranteed all-win scenario, if he did say so himself.

Operation pretend to be a prodigal genius was an outright success. It easily laid all of Jim's worries to rest. Since he was now classified as a child with an adult IQ, and then some. It has explained about him in many ways. Originally they had assumed that the coma had changed something vital in him, and not in a good way. Then they suspected foul play. Then because Jim altered the padd, and made it run even better than it had ever before, on camera, it had laid everyone's concerns to rest.

And now he wouldn't even have to sit through kindergarten again. He was really dreading it actually.

Going back to his childhood home was as weird as he thought it would be. His hometown predictably heard of what happened and had asked his parents for details. All of Jim's childhood friends had also come to see Jim, but kids man. They were intuitive, and immediately knew something wasn't right. It's not like they had breakdowns immediately when they saw him, but they sure as heck kept their distance from him.

Jim supposed it was for the best, Jim was weird around his supposedly older brother Sam already. Even younger kids, he wouldn't know what to do if they were as weirdly insistent as Sam was being. Jim is pretty sure he's already treating him like he's his nephew but it's not like he could help it. Sam was pretty confused at how much their dynamic changed.

It wasn't just Sam either, the same thing is happening with his parents. George is surprisingly taking it rather well, probably because Jim doesn’t cling to him whenever he has to leave the house. His mom, well, she's trying to do something. The number of bonding, mother and son outings is almost outrageous.

And so that was how his day to day played out after his stay at the hospital.

Jim was given a tailored lesson plan, he only occasionally needed to go to a schooling facility for it. However, Jim was told that Vulcan had offered him a place to learn using their advanced schooling facilities; they had even given them two options for how he could attend. The obvious of moving to vulcan permanently, or Jim could just get a vulcan tailored plan instead of his earth one and occasionally visit the facility for it.

He said yes to the second offer. He knew that spock lived in a city called shi’khar. With a heavy heart, he told them he wanted to get his schooling there.

He didn’t let himself think about it for long, not wanting to get his hopes up. That maybe. Just maybe Spock might’ve come with him here. If he took the opportunity now, it would increase his chances of finding Spock.

His parents were obviously hesitant about such a thing, but he managed to convince them about it. Afterall it seemed like a good deal all things considered. Getting educated by Vulcan facilities is quite the brag, though Jim is a little nervous about the whole thing. Sure jim was well above average intelligence even as an adult, but vulcan schooling? It's a bit much, though Jim was confident that he would at least prove to be adequate. As the vulcans say.

So before Jim knew it, he was already 5 years old, ready to start his education with vulcan.

Now, once he gets the plan, it will have to be updated frequently. Meaning loads of visits to vulcan.

So, in order to get his lesson plan, they had to go to Vulcan to register in one of their schools. He wouldn't be able to use their most common learning technique, the learning pods. All they had time for was the lesson plan they had been promised. The vulcan learning system worked differently than earths, and an example of it will be the fact that vulcan doesn’t use grades based on age for vulcans but their learning level. All of a child's education is tailored to their individual needs on vulcan. Sounds good right?

Jim made his way to the building, sweat building on his brow. He was only speed walking a few steps ahead of his parents. Passing vulcans rarely spared them a glance, all resolutely making their way to whatever destination they needed to be at.

Jim wasn’t paying them much mind either, he was walking with a slight bounce in his step. He was in the middle of thinking of the possibilities and whatnot. When he spotted him.

A young vulcan with a high collar holding a padd was walking with an older vulcan and.

Oh. 

A human woman.

His eyes widened as he abruptly froze in place. No way. No way. Already? What were the odds?

He ignores his parents' questions and urges, he just stares the kid down. 

Just when Jim was feeling a little weird about it, especially after what had to have been Sarek started to stare him down as well, 

His widening brown eyes confirmed it, however he didn't stop walking. In fact he just went a little faster in his direction while typing away on a small padd. As Jim was right in front of the doors to the building that ran the schools, he half figured that's where he was heading. 

What does one do in this type of situation? What if Jim calls Spock's name and vice versa, how would they explain away their recognition. If Spock even recognises me. He might just want to avoid his staring.

However Jim couldn't think about it any long, as Spock turns off through the door, he mumbles this.

“There is a place we can meet. A garden used for meditation.” and he's gone, his parents in tow. 

Jim blinked himself out of it. Well, that was one way of finding out that It was him. A slow grin brightens his face.

He follows right after them, to his parents' relief.

An hour later of talking logistics, the vulcan staff asking him questions with him trying out a learning pod, they gained all they needed to know. He was told by the vulcan staff that he could go wait outside in the waiting room as they needed to discuss topics they deemed as adult only.

He readily goes out into the waiting hall hoping to find who he wanted to find, and yes, there he is already.

Spock was sitting on a bench against the wall, messing with the padd in his hands. Jims makes a beeline for him and sits right next to him.

Spock looks at him from the corner of his eye at first before putting his padd away, and giving jim his undivided attention.

“Spock.” Kirk said softly, in his now juvenile voice and body. 

“Captain, I-” Spock says, before shutting his mouth at the look Jim gave him. “Jim. I have come to the conclusion that the weapon we were previously exposed to has caused this situation to arise.”

Jim huffs fondly, shaking his head slightly. “Ah, yes. I myself have come to a similar conclusion.” he humors before driving on. “Spock, it is good to see you! I almost believed that, well.” He glances down momentarily, not really bringing himself to say it.

Spock gazes at him steadily. “Jim, I believe that as I have attempted to block you from the weapons path, it was rather easy to think that I was the only one in this situation.”

“Ah you would have grounds to think that, yeah.” Jim conceded with a slightly sheepish smile. “It was a comfort to me, however spock.”

“Jim, do you…you must understand i-” Spock cuts himself off, his cheeks colouring jade. His gaze is now firmly on his lap, avoiding looking at him.

Jim smiles encouragingly, despite being sure of the fact that Spock couldn’t see it. He stays silent, sure that if he said anything Spock would just change the subject before he could even open his mouth to encourage anything. He does however move his hand to be in Spock's line of sight.

It was silent to the point of Jim being resigned to the fact that Spock wasn't going to say anything about it, but then Spock takes in a breath and lets it out silently.

“Jim, I believe it is obvious that my father and I have had trouble understanding one another. Before I was de-aged.” He gazes resolutely at seemingly nothing, his eyebrows scrunched together imperceptibly. “However, now that I have assumed the title of prodigy and am now well known to have advanced intelligence, all that has served to do was exacerbate the misunderstanding.” He confides.

His eyes widened slightly, surprised and oddly touched at the fact that spock was telling him this at all. In order to allow him to continue, as he could tell he wasn't quite finished, he stays silent. His hand however inches closer.

“Look spock, we already found each other already.” He says tenderly. Before smirking slightly. “Prodigy? Great minds think alike alright. What are the odds that we have both come up with the same cover story?”

“Jim, it was one of the only logical choices for the best outcome.” Spock replies with a raise of his eyebrow. And Jim couldn't help giggling at seeing that look on his friend's face.

Yes, they had each other. and so early in the game too. Jim had a feeling it was only going to get better from here on out.