Growing Shadows (open thread, tagging ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
boldygoing for sure)
Oct. 6th, 2018 01:37 pmsmartass_captainGeorge Kirk is a Starfleet legend for the Federation. A hero to his crew. A good husband and father to his family, or so Jim Kirk has always been told.
The shadow he cast even in death swallowed Jim up before he was even old enough to understand why his mother cried whenever he smiled a certain way. Refused to look at him or even come back to Earth more than she had to while he was young. He tried to fight it, rebel against it. Baring his teeth. Willing to become the antithesis of George Kirk so long as it meant someone would see him. Anyone. It didn't matter who.
To a young James Kirk even being labeled a criminal was better than being labeled as George Kirk's Son.
Pike ruined all of that. Drug Jim right back into that shadow and told him to embrace it. Encompass it. Dared him to be better. An impossible challenge surely. Every struggle Jim waded through made in the gloom of a reputation he could never hope to live up to. When he finally came out the other side and stepped into the light again a year older than his father ever got to be he was lost. His own accomplishments and reputation stood on their own merit but to what end?
"Dammit, I thought I was past all of this."
Thought he'd moved on since arriving in Yorktown. Found a place all his own that he belonged, no matter what George's reputation was. It turns out self awareness can only go so far. Meeting a Norse God who wears your old man's face isn't the sort of thing he'd been prepared for. He has a pile of ignored PINpoint messages staring accusingly up at him from the screen. Jim's been ignoring people for the last few days since his run in with Thor in the Nexus.
Some people are harder to dodge than others, of course. He picks up the device and starts to rifle through everything he's missed.
The shadow he cast even in death swallowed Jim up before he was even old enough to understand why his mother cried whenever he smiled a certain way. Refused to look at him or even come back to Earth more than she had to while he was young. He tried to fight it, rebel against it. Baring his teeth. Willing to become the antithesis of George Kirk so long as it meant someone would see him. Anyone. It didn't matter who.
To a young James Kirk even being labeled a criminal was better than being labeled as George Kirk's Son.
Pike ruined all of that. Drug Jim right back into that shadow and told him to embrace it. Encompass it. Dared him to be better. An impossible challenge surely. Every struggle Jim waded through made in the gloom of a reputation he could never hope to live up to. When he finally came out the other side and stepped into the light again a year older than his father ever got to be he was lost. His own accomplishments and reputation stood on their own merit but to what end?
"Dammit, I thought I was past all of this."
Thought he'd moved on since arriving in Yorktown. Found a place all his own that he belonged, no matter what George's reputation was. It turns out self awareness can only go so far. Meeting a Norse God who wears your old man's face isn't the sort of thing he'd been prepared for. He has a pile of ignored PINpoint messages staring accusingly up at him from the screen. Jim's been ignoring people for the last few days since his run in with Thor in the Nexus.
Some people are harder to dodge than others, of course. He picks up the device and starts to rifle through everything he's missed.
no subject
Date: 2018-11-04 03:08 am (UTC)"By most measures, his mistakes and transgressions are lesser than mine, but without intervention, he might have become the monster I am accused of being. And that would be a tragedy." An ambiguous statement. Almost like Loki's taking credit for doing bad things so Thor didn't have to. Light can't exist without Darkness, after all. Or can it?
"But no. Now he is a friend to mortals and a shepherd to his people, and that is fitting." He takes a bite of the pastry he's been playing with, savoring it quietly, and picks the crumbs up off the table, fastidious as a cat.
"I appreciate your attempt to give me the benefit of the doubt, by the way. I will not forget that."