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wook77Title: Somewhere Else (can't stay here)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wook77
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Character: Winona Kirk
Rating: PG
Warnings: canon character death
Wordcount: ~725
Summary: A bottle of alcohol helps Winona cope with the loss of George.
A/N: Flashfic. Unbeta'd. Also fulfilling the "relative values: families" card on my cliche_bingo card. It's definitely relative family values.
She's been threatened with the loss of her commission if she "doesn't pull it together". What the hell do they know about this sort of thing? Have any of those pompous self-important assholes ever had to listen to their husband die over the communicator while giving birth? No, they haven't. Winona sees it in their looks, the way that no one quite meets her gaze, the way that conversation trails off awkwardly, the way that she's left alone with two children and no husband.
The bereavement leave is long enough that she's able to get to Iowa, give George and Jim to her mother-in-law and then find somewhere else to be, somewhere that they don't know George or her. Somewhere that the sad eyes don't follow her, somewhere she doesn't have judgmental whispers and stares, somewhere that she can just be Winona.
She crawls into the bottle because at least it listens to her. It sympathizes and it doesn't judge her. It doesn't want to talk about George and his heroism, how he saved its life or the lives of 800 others. It doesn't ask what it had been like to give birth and then listen to him die. It doesn't need to know what she's planning on doing for the rest of her life or when she's ready to serve again. It certainly doesn't demand that she "pull it together".
It tells her that she's going to be all right, that if she just keeps hanging around it, it'll dull the pain. She listens to it because it doesn't tell her it loves her before exploding into pieces.
She's easy pickings when Frank saunters up to her at the bar in the middle of nowhere Iowa. In a week, he's living in her house. In a month, they're married. In three, she's back on a ship, winging her way away from her boys and how they remind her too much of George. George and his cut-off cry as the Kelvin had exploded around him. It's bad enough that she hears the cry whenever she sleeps, she doesn't need to hear it when her son says "I love you" (oh god, George, you should be here). She has to get away from all of this, get back into space where she can pretend that George has been sent off to another part of the galaxy and if she just waits long enough, he'll be there.
Shore leave is the worst because it's when she's home with her mother-in-law's sad eyes, the boys that stare at her and beg her to stay longer (mommy, Frank hit me. Can't we stay with you? We'll be quiet, you won't even know that we're on the ship! I promise!) that she remembers that George isn't going to return to her. Instead, his body's out there in space ("I love you, I love y-" and then the explosion and the cry and his body is floating in space, just another piece of debris) without any sort of closure.
By the time five (ten, however long) years pass, she's no longer mourning George. It's habit, now, to climb into the bottle and stay there. The bottle keeps everything away from her, lets her sleep. Frank does too. Frank is here and alive. He calls her 'baby' and he holds her when she shakes because she isn't able to get another bottle right now. Jim's broken them all and she can't take it. She needs to get back into space and away from all of this again.
She barely realizes when George runs away from home. Frank sends her a message but she's on a planet on the other side of the galaxy. His message doesn't really make all that much sense, either, it just says something about George being gone and the car getting wrecked and Jim being arrested. Her Jimmy wouldn't do that, he's a good boy. George is happy. So obviously Frank's had too much to drink.
She doesn't think about the way that she's almost constantly drunk. Frank's the drinker. He's the one that'll get shitfaced at the bar. Winona only drinks until the shakes go away.
By the time she makes it back to Earth, Jimmy's missing, too. Her family's broken but she can't bring herself to do anything more than grab a bottle. She toasts to his success, hoping that his life is better than hers.
It can't be much worse.
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.
Author:
wook77Fandom: Star Trek XI
Character: Winona Kirk
Rating: PG
Warnings: canon character death
Wordcount: ~725
Summary: A bottle of alcohol helps Winona cope with the loss of George.
A/N: Flashfic. Unbeta'd. Also fulfilling the "relative values: families" card on my cliche_bingo card. It's definitely relative family values.
She's been threatened with the loss of her commission if she "doesn't pull it together". What the hell do they know about this sort of thing? Have any of those pompous self-important assholes ever had to listen to their husband die over the communicator while giving birth? No, they haven't. Winona sees it in their looks, the way that no one quite meets her gaze, the way that conversation trails off awkwardly, the way that she's left alone with two children and no husband.
The bereavement leave is long enough that she's able to get to Iowa, give George and Jim to her mother-in-law and then find somewhere else to be, somewhere that they don't know George or her. Somewhere that the sad eyes don't follow her, somewhere she doesn't have judgmental whispers and stares, somewhere that she can just be Winona.
She crawls into the bottle because at least it listens to her. It sympathizes and it doesn't judge her. It doesn't want to talk about George and his heroism, how he saved its life or the lives of 800 others. It doesn't ask what it had been like to give birth and then listen to him die. It doesn't need to know what she's planning on doing for the rest of her life or when she's ready to serve again. It certainly doesn't demand that she "pull it together".
It tells her that she's going to be all right, that if she just keeps hanging around it, it'll dull the pain. She listens to it because it doesn't tell her it loves her before exploding into pieces.
She's easy pickings when Frank saunters up to her at the bar in the middle of nowhere Iowa. In a week, he's living in her house. In a month, they're married. In three, she's back on a ship, winging her way away from her boys and how they remind her too much of George. George and his cut-off cry as the Kelvin had exploded around him. It's bad enough that she hears the cry whenever she sleeps, she doesn't need to hear it when her son says "I love you" (oh god, George, you should be here). She has to get away from all of this, get back into space where she can pretend that George has been sent off to another part of the galaxy and if she just waits long enough, he'll be there.
Shore leave is the worst because it's when she's home with her mother-in-law's sad eyes, the boys that stare at her and beg her to stay longer (mommy, Frank hit me. Can't we stay with you? We'll be quiet, you won't even know that we're on the ship! I promise!) that she remembers that George isn't going to return to her. Instead, his body's out there in space ("I love you, I love y-" and then the explosion and the cry and his body is floating in space, just another piece of debris) without any sort of closure.
By the time five (ten, however long) years pass, she's no longer mourning George. It's habit, now, to climb into the bottle and stay there. The bottle keeps everything away from her, lets her sleep. Frank does too. Frank is here and alive. He calls her 'baby' and he holds her when she shakes because she isn't able to get another bottle right now. Jim's broken them all and she can't take it. She needs to get back into space and away from all of this again.
She barely realizes when George runs away from home. Frank sends her a message but she's on a planet on the other side of the galaxy. His message doesn't really make all that much sense, either, it just says something about George being gone and the car getting wrecked and Jim being arrested. Her Jimmy wouldn't do that, he's a good boy. George is happy. So obviously Frank's had too much to drink.
She doesn't think about the way that she's almost constantly drunk. Frank's the drinker. He's the one that'll get shitfaced at the bar. Winona only drinks until the shakes go away.
By the time she makes it back to Earth, Jimmy's missing, too. Her family's broken but she can't bring herself to do anything more than grab a bottle. She toasts to his success, hoping that his life is better than hers.
It can't be much worse.
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Date: 2009-07-03 12:47 am (UTC)CameronWinona.no subject
Date: 2009-07-06 02:55 am (UTC)<3
I can't wait to see you in such a short time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Date: 2009-07-03 12:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-06 02:56 am (UTC)<3 I appreciate your kind words.
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Date: 2009-07-03 01:35 am (UTC)<3 <3 <3
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Date: 2009-07-06 02:56 am (UTC)Sorry, unrelated squee :P
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Date: 2009-07-03 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-06 02:57 am (UTC)<3xabillion. I'm so glad that you're here to enjoy this with me!
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Date: 2009-07-03 03:28 pm (UTC)Falcon
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Date: 2009-07-06 03:03 am (UTC)I appreciate your kind words.
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Date: 2009-07-03 08:02 pm (UTC)*hugs*
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Date: 2009-07-06 03:03 am (UTC)