Not a time to Celebrate
Jan. 2nd, 2016 03:56 pmJim's made it. Holidays are done, big damn speech over, all without alerting the crew to how detached their Captain has become in the last week and a half. With all the extra shifts he'd taken on over Christmas, it would be easy to assume Bones made him take the day off to rest and recuperate.
They'd be wrong.
Bones knew Jim wouldn't be on shift on the Fourth. He never does much of anything that day. If the end of December drains the light out of the Captain's smile, then the first week of January looks like it's killing him. He and Spock tried to get him out of his quarters and focused on something--anything else. But Jim's shut himself away in his room. There's a holo set up on his desk of a man who looks an awful lot like Jim, standing happily beside his mother.
Jim stares at it from his seat, before burying his head in his hands. His birthday isn't something to celebrate. It's a reminder of the tragedy that changed everything.
They'd be wrong.
Bones knew Jim wouldn't be on shift on the Fourth. He never does much of anything that day. If the end of December drains the light out of the Captain's smile, then the first week of January looks like it's killing him. He and Spock tried to get him out of his quarters and focused on something--anything else. But Jim's shut himself away in his room. There's a holo set up on his desk of a man who looks an awful lot like Jim, standing happily beside his mother.
Jim stares at it from his seat, before burying his head in his hands. His birthday isn't something to celebrate. It's a reminder of the tragedy that changed everything.