boldygoing | L'shanah tovah [for losthunter]

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L'shanah tovah [for losthunter]

Jim Kirk has not celebrated any holidays with his family for a very long time.

Sure, they started talking again after his enlistment in Starfleet made its way into several Earth newsfeeds, the usual media vultures seeking attention for their coverage of George Kirk's son returning to the fold, so to speak. Confined mostly to text-based messages, and a few short video calls, his grandparents have reached out to him over the past few years, trying to reconnect, to mend old fences, and giving a standing invitation to come visit whenever he's ready.

He's always had an excuse for not going, citing existing plans to spend time with Bones, to study for upcoming exams, or being out of the solar system on Starfleet business, among other things. But with the Enterprise still out of commission as her repairs and overhaul nears completion, and having spent several weeks sharing living space with his mother again, he can't really wiggle out of it this year.

Not that he's even sure he wants to, anymore.

His family life has never really been the poster child for well-adjusted people, but... they're still his family. And maybe it's time to stop running away from his problems and pretending they don't exist. He's not a traumatized thirteen-year-old anymore, overwhelmed and isolated in the knowledge that none of them can truly appreciate the horrors he lived through, lashing out at a world that allowed such things to happen to him. He's turned his life around, cleaned up his act, and started down a path that is far more important than just fulfilling his own wants, regardless of the legality. And this particular holiday seems like the appropriate time to try to make amends.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to deal with it alone.

Jim patiently waits just outside a public transporter terminal in the Chicago suburbs, sitting on a park bench. While still wearing civilian clothes, he's on the slightly more formal side of things today in a white dress shirt and dark pants, though he's not bothered to wear a tie. It's about mid-afternoon, and the streets are mildly busy with people out for a stroll or out running errands of some kind, a steady flow of foot traffic both on the sidewalks and beaming in and out at the transporter platforms. He idly watches them pass by, keeping an eye out for his expected guest, whose PINpoint coordinates should bring him out exactly where everyone expects people to appear out of nowhere.

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This is what Jim had been afraid of. Even twenty-six years after the fact, the ghost of his father still haunts his family, still colors the strained relationship between himself and his mother, pitting them against each other. It's something that's led to more than one argument between them, in the few times they've spoken in the past few years.

But the fact that it's also old, well-tread ground means that Jim is not going to allow himself to be drawn back into those same disagreements, not during the holiday of reconciliation. He's pretty sure that his mom doesn't even consciously intend to do it, driven by her worry for him, no matter how unreasonable he thinks it is. Yes, his job is dangerous. He's proven that more than once. But she's also in Starfleet, doing the same kind of job, and as Hunter has rightly pointed out, not having a dangerous job does not guarantee safety for anyone. It's his decision to make, his choice to take the risk.

"Five years is a long time," he agrees calmly. "Doesn't mean you can't get any messages from me in the meantime, every couple of weeks or so."

His mom looks a little surprised that he's even suggesting reaching out to her, but it's a grateful kind of surprise, hesitant as if doubting the sincerity of the offer yet hopeful that it is. Ruth looks between the three of them, Jim, Hunter, and Winona, and though she's never served in Starfleet, it's clear where Jim gets his diplomatic sense from. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Jim," Ruth says.

Edited 2017-09-25 16:00 (UTC)

Hunter gives Jim another supportive squeeze. He is glad to see that Jim wants to try to keep communications open between him and his mother.

"I have a few portraits of Jim... if any of you would like one... just let me know." He will make sure that it is one of the ones that could hang in a family home.

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Ruth agrees. "I'd love to have one. You can never have too many reminders of what matters most."

Winona still looks a little like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, but nods a little. "I'd like that." She doesn't keep many personal items in her quarters on theColumbia, but maybe it's time to start.

Jim is really glad that Hunter is here to help defuse the tension, and leans into his touch in silent thanks.

"Good. I will make sure you both get a portrait then."

Hunter finishes the last of his meal. "This was delicious. You said there would be left-overs to take home?"

"Oh, yes dear," Ruth answers. "You're welcome to help yourself to whatever you'd like to take with you."

It seems everyone is done with their food also, but before the meal is officially over, there's also one last ritual to perform. James stands and recites the birkat hamazon, using the shorter version out of respect for their guest, giving thanks for the bountiful meal that they've consumed.

Once that's done, Ruth whisks away the plates and other dishes before anyone gets it into their head that they need to help clean up. Hospitality is serious business in her household, and before she sets to loading the dirtied dishes into the sterilizer unit, she brings a few sealable containers to the table. "There's more of everything in the stasis field on the counter if you need it," she adds, gesturing towards the kitchen.

The containers aren't entirely like Tupperware, although they're similar in size and shape. Rather than plastic, they're made out of some kind of foreign polymer with locking lids, and a small switch on top allows the contents to be put in temporary stasis, so the food inside doesn't go bad as quickly as it would otherwise.

Hunter takes his time to look over the containers. They look very interesting, and a lot different than what he is used to. He has some questions about them, but will wait until he can ask Jim, when they are alone.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

It's fairly typical for Jim to have some conflicting feelings over being offered leftovers, at least when it comes to his family. Sure, it's an innocent enough thing, and very normal, but they also know what happened to him when he was thirteen, and he can't help but wonder if it's somehow related anyway.

Doesn't mean he's going to turn down the extra food, of course.

He loads up his share of the containers with a bit of everything, enough to make at least two more meals, not too worried about whether any of the more savory dishes are touching each other and mixing up a bit. Aware that Hunter won't be able to ask about how they work in front of his family, he does lead by example, touching the switch on top once his containers are sealed.

It's... strange, but kind of nice, to be ending a meal with his family without any arguments having happened, or any resentment on his part.

The evening has been nice. Hunter feels pretty special to be here tonight, with Jim, and his family. It is nice to see them mending fences.

He doesn't know if that would ever possible with his father. That he could ever give Jim an important 'meet the family' moment in return.

"So are all the celebrations kept around the suppertime? Or is there something similar to the countdown to midnight?"

It's gone a little better than Jim had expected, on his end. Hunter being here has definitely made a difference. Whether it's because he's had some good supportive arguments in Jim's favor, or simply because the family doesn't want to dig too deeply into family issues when they have company, that's up for debate. Either way, the end result is the same.

"Nah, the Jewish calendar's a lunisolar one, so days start at sundown," Jim explains. "Back in ancient times, it was easier to figure out when sunset was than midnight."

"A lot of time during Rosh Hashanah is spent in the synagogue," Winona says, feeling bolstered enough to contribute to the conversation without treading on any touchy feelings. "There are long hours of services in the morning, lots of prayer, and blowing the shofar - a kind of trumpet made from a ram's horn, meant to wake us up spiritually for the renewal of the year. It's a pretty busy time; even Jews who aren't normally very observant usually make an exception for the High Holy Days."

"There's another tradition called tashlikh that a lot of people do," James adds with a grin. "You go down to a river or some other kind of flowing water and symbolically cast off your sins to be washed away, throwing pebbles or breadcrumbs into the water. It's a great excuse to feed ducks."

"There are a few synagogue's in New York. They usually have very beautiful architecture to them," Hunter smiles.

"That tradition sounds like it would be very soothing to the soul."

"If nothing else, it makes the ducks happy," Jim agrees, though he hasn't done the ritual for a long time now, like many other things he did as a child. It's still somewhat strange, returning to that even for just one holiday, like a dance you haven't done in so long that you've forgotten half the steps. But still... he feels a little more comfortable in his grandparents' house than he did when they arrived, now.

"I was painting a landscape of a lake, with ducks, when I first met Verity."

"Will your family be doing that ritual tonight?"

"It's a bit late for us, but you boys can if you want," Ruth says with a smile. "We're going to go after morning services tomorrow."

Jim hadn't planned either way, so he just raises his eyebrows questioningly at Hunter. "Up to you. Nearest part of the river's a few minutes' walk though."

"We don't have to do the ritual."

"Just a walk by the river would be nice." Hunter smiles softly.

Jim nods. While this evening has gone better than he'd hoped, he still feels somewhat like a break with just the two of them would be nice. To say that being around his family is still awkward to an extent is an understatement.

"Will you be coming back afterwards, dear, or are you heading home?" Ruth asks.

Hunter smiles at Jim, since it will be up to him to answer the question. "Whatever you decide, if you want me here, I am able to stay longer."

It's encouraging that Hunter hasn't decided that Jim's family are too strange to be around, or any other reason why he might want to run away screaming. So Jim smiles a little and nods. "We'll be back."

If nothing else, they won't have to worry about managing their leftovers.

"All right, you boys have a good walk," Ruth says, smiling somewhat knowingly at them.

The somewhat knowingly smile from Jim's grandmother makes Hunter chuckle lightly. He offers his arm to Jim. "Take me for a tour?"

Jim takes his arm, and throws a casual wave towards his mother as they head out the door. It's getting a little late, though it's not quite sundown, and the streets are even quieter than they were when Hunter arrived.

Once the door closes behind them, Jim visibly relaxes a little, some of the weight off his shoulders of having to be on his best behavior in front of his grandparents and his mother. "I think my grandma likes you."

"I like her." Hunter laughs softly. "I really enjoyed meeting them tonight, Jim."

Jim scrubs his free hand through his hair, relieved to be out of the house. The sidewalk will lead them along the road in the direction of the river, the walking path planted with decorative shrubs, some of them alien in nature, in bloom even so late in the year.

"It wasn't too different, then?" Jim had noticed a couple of times where Hunter had looked uncertain or confused, though he'd expected as much.

"Not too different." Hunter replied. He takes careful note of some of the alien blooms that are blooming right now.

"There were a few times, I didn't want to ask questions, because it might have resulted in them having too many questions for me."

The weather, at least, is cooperating with their outdoor plans, bringing only a slightly cooler breeze as the evening deepens. It's nice to be able to just stroll along at their own pace, without needing to rush anywhere or worry about someone waiting for them to arrive.

"Because of technology?" Jim guesses.

"Because of the technology. And the time when I was asked if any of my family was in Starfleet." Hunter shrugs. "I am glad they didn't press why I am not close to my father either. My answer wouldn't really fit with what is typical in your timeline."

"We know what it's like to have strangers prying into our private lives," Jim says quietly, glancing over at him as they walk along. "So we try not to do it to other people if they don't wanna talk about it."

Edited 2017-09-28 18:36 (UTC)

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This new autocorrect is awful