Chapter Text
The scorching heat of a midday sun liked his back, rivers of sweat trickling down his sun kissed skin. The tank top that once had been white, was now covered in grime and dirt. Stains some older some knew. James T. Kirk came back to himself, hands deep inside the motor of an antique bike, with no idea on how he ended there. Well that wasn't completely true, he had fought with his jerk of a step dad and stormed out into the garage.
It was the summer before he turned eighteen. All rebellious seventeen year old glory, waiting for that perfect way to get out of Riverside Iowa. The way was sitting next to him, electric blue paint smudged and faded with time, telling stories of the people that used to ride it.
He was almost ready, ready to disappear like his brother Sam did six years ago. The only thing keeping him put was…. no not even that. His mother had not been home for over a year, and before that for only a week. Jim couldn't keep the bitter edge that always accompanied his thoughts about his mom away, knowing full well that she tried. That knowledge didn't soothe him though, nor did the way she stared at him sadly every time she was home. Memories of lonely holidays by himself. Not really celebrating his birthday after he turned five because of the haunted look Winona always took when she stared at him.
Jim had packed ages ago. His only useful backpack stuffed with clothes and a couple of data padds, his outdated communicator and a toothbrush. Credit chips he would steal out of Frank’s wallet, that bastard wouldn't need them anyway. Living off the pay Winona sent him from her missions, wasting all of the money to cheap beer. Pathetic. One more tweak, one more and he was free, free of this dammed life. He would ride to the nearest spaceport, buy the cheapest ticket anywhere, it didn't matter where, he just needed a way out. Thank god Iowa had a spaceport, thank heavens for he would have had to ride long if it didn't.
Jim didn't want to be stuck in this small town any longer than necessary, if that meant dropping out of high school, then be it, if it meant leaving everything behind the be it. He didn't care in the slightest. He wasn't leaving much behind him anyway, he didn't have that many friends, and when he said friends he meant people he tolerated, not liked. They would miss him sure, about a month before moving on with their lives and goals. No one would really miss him. Frank would be elated of course, Winona wouldn't notice until her next leave when she came home to find he was gone, Sam.. Sam hadn't been home in six years, and he wouldn't come back any day now.
A yell from the house startled Jim out of his thoughts. Looking down to his oil covered hands he took one steadying breath. He would do it tonight, when Frank fell asleep he would do it. It was easy. The man kept his wallet on the coffee table at night, easy.
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Jim wasn't sure he could do it.
Frank had been predictable, leaving his wallet and keys to the coffee table, he had fallen asleep in front of the tv like he always did, but Jim hadn't considered the obstacle course that was between the living room door and the coffee table. Beer bottles, empty bags of chips and containers of take out littered the floor. It was like a mine field, one wrong step, one misplaced foot would wake the man up. He felt like a Ninja, from those old movies he used to watch. Dancing around the trash the blonde finally got to where he was headed, though as it turned out, three broken beer bottles and one slip on Chinese fried noodles later, he had come to the conclusion that the man on still snoring on his ratty armchair wouldn't wake up if the house was on fire.
A deep sigh escaped his lips as Jim took the three credit chips out. He left one, not being that selfish and threw the wallet back to the table. This was it, this was the end of his life in Iowa. What seemed like a chaprter ending the young man took his backpack, stepped into the cool night air.
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The spaceport seemed huge, even though it was one of the smallest ones. It was full of people even at this time of the night. He knew this of course, having connections to one of the most popular bars at the port. He had worked there last summer, handing out drinks, chatting with ladies, doing the dishes. He had earned good money on that, well until someone had ratted out that he was only sixteen and he lost the job. Jim was great friends with the owner of the place though, and they usually let him in without a hassle.
This was where he found himself. Staring at the bottle of coke on the counter in front of him. Ben, the owner hadn't given him a beer. Not that Jim had asked, knowing the answer right away. No matter how much he had whined, he never had gotten drunk at the job. Old habits died hard he supposed.
”So you finally got out?” The words made him jump, the bottle in his hands almost falling over. Harriet raised her sculpted eyebrows questioningly, leaning on her yellow tinted hands at the other side of the bar. He sighed, taking a small sip out of his drink before answering her,”I ran out.”
The eyebrow climbed higher, and adjusting herself so she was only balancing on one pair of hands Harriet let her other pair do a order someone had called. ”Now this is a story I want to hear.”
Jim scoffed, ”there's really nothing to tell. I finally took my stuff and ran.”
”No really, what brought this on? Last time I heard of you,” She slid a colorful drink into a waiting hand across the bar before continuing. ”You were all smiley and happy and fun, what made you so moody?”
”Well..” Jim paused, giving Harriet his winning smile. ”The last time you saw me I was sixteen and had a job, people who talked to me on regular basis and money I didn't have to steal from my step-dad.” The words held a bitter edge to them, his smile growing a little tighter around the edges.
Harriet had just lowered her eyebrow but it shot up again, the other one in tow as she took his appearance. ”Has it really been that long?” She muttered eyes narrowing. Jim didn't let his smile waver and her eyes tingled before one of her four hands shot out and slapped him on the shoulder. ”You fucking idiot, didn't come and see me in over a year how dare you.”
Somehow the tension disappeared at her comment. Jim's shoulders slackened and his smile grew to something more genuine, eyes crinkling. ”Well you know me, got places to be, stuff to do.” He took a look around the bar, eyes travelling from one person to another. Music pumped, too loud for his liking, the songs some smashup of Earth and Orion popular music. He sighed, turning to Harriet again. ”You know any shuttles that leave right about now, something I can buy a ticket to, preferably cheap, don’t really care where?”
She stared at him thoughtfully for a second, two of her hands once again mixing a drink. ”There’s one, goes to the mining plant on one of the Saturn's the moons, stops at one of the space docs up there before setting back off towards the moon. It costs next to nothing to go on board, if you want to travel with greasy, and sometimes groapy miners. They usually also carry some minerals and supplies to the mining plant. You can get off at the Space Doc and head to somewhere else from there.”
”When does it leave?”
”In about..” She took a second to look at the board at the other end of the dance floor, ”fifteen minutes. You have just enough time to go an buy a ticket before it leaves if you go now.”
He turned his head too, seeing the numbers flash on the board he stood up, fumbling with the credit chips on his pockets. Harriet beat him to it, placing her hand onto his arm. ”It’s on the house, I have the feeling I won’t be seeing you for a while.” The words made Jim stop, and as he raised his head to look into her blazing pink eyes he nodded. Kissing her on the cheek he murmured his goodbyes to her before sprinting out of the bar.
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They hadn't even asked papers when he brought his tickets. Only giving him a little chip that he had to slot into the shuttle so the door would open. It had been cheap alright, disturbingly cheap. Eyes scanning the bay they landed on the dirtiest and most worn out one, looking down on the chip in his palm it read 65, same number as on the shuttle. It was also quite large, although the largest part was the cargo. Big boxes were lowered into the trunk of the thing as burly looking men and some women loaded into the small passenger part.
Cringing a bit to himself, Jim walked inside. The only empty seat he saw was squeezed in between a wiry woman with a kid and a beefy guy. Ok.. this was the cheapest one so he hadn't waited for first class drinks or anything but these people just seemed.. poor. Sighing the blonde sat. Hands going around his backpack Jim held it to his chest, eyeing the other passengers suspiciously. He had every right to be suspicious of anyone, getting mugged was the last thing on his 'wanted to experience' list. He was feeling confident of this escape plan. That was the truth until the shuttle started to move and the confidence started to slowly bleed away.