STAR TREK: One Shots

Dancing With Your Ghost - Winona Kirk

Winona's crying tears of joy as she meets her newborn son. "It's a boy." She says to her husband over the comms of the shuttle.

"A boy!" George replies happily. "Tell me about him."

"He's beautiful." She sniffs, looking lovely at her child as she holds his small hand. "George, you should be here."

It takes him a moment before he responds: "What are we going to call him?"

Will he survive? Is that why he says "we"?

She knows it's wishful thinking, but...

"We can name him after your father."

"Tiberius?" He laughs. "Are you kidding me? No, that's the worst. Let's name him after your dad. Let's call him Jim."

"Jim," she says the name, trying it out. It sounds nice. "Okay. Jim it is."

"Sweetheart, can you hear me?"

"I can hear." Winona's voice wavers as she speaks. She lifts her head, a pain in her eyes as she knows what's to come to her husband.

"I love you so much." His voice wavers too. "I love you..."

Winona Kirk watches out the window of the shuttle; she watches the destruction of the U.S.S. Kelvin. Turning to her newborn, she cries, knowing that nothing will be the same without George Kirk.

Jim was at that age when he first started to crawl. Winona and her eldest son, Sam, cheered him on. He giggled and wore a big smile on his face, looking as proud of himself as his family was of him. "Go to Mommy, Jim!" Sam said, lightly nudging his baby brother forward.

Winona held her hands out to him as he came to her, one knee forward at a time. When he'd gotten close enough, she scooped him up in her arms and twirled before letting him settle on her hip. She laughed full-heartedly. "You did it!"
If only George were here to see him, she thought.

It wasn't just Jim's fifth birthday; it was the fifth anniversary of George's death. It was an hour after Jim had opened his gifts (he and Sam were sound asleep by this time). Winona stood outside in the field, underneath the large tree by their house. She stared up at the stars above, hoping he was still up there.

Then she let it all out.

Winona cried until her heart gave out, yelling at the sky in agony. She was screaming at the world; at the universe for what it had done to her. She fell to her knees, hugging herself tightly with shaking arms. What did she do to deserve this?

"Baby, why'd you go away?" She croaked out. "You know I'm still your girl, right?" She knew she was holding on too tight.... With her head up in the clouds.

She imagined living the rest of her days with him—things would've been different if he were still here. She imagined what it would've been like if they hadn't joined Starfleet—he wouldn't be dead, that's for sure.

And now, Heaven only knows where he is.

"How do I love—" she choked out through tears. "How do I love again?

"How do I trust— How do I trust again?"

Winona would stay up all night, every night, telling herself that she was alright. Finally, minutes after her breakdown, she stood to her feet. And with a heavy heart, she took one last look at the sky that night, before walking back inside.

Eventually, it was at the age of eight that Jim finally asked his mother about his father. "Mom, what was Dad like?" He asked curiously in child-like wonder. At that point, she was considering going back into Starfleet.

At first, Winona didn't know what to say. She thought for a moment before turning in her seat at the table, allowing for the boy to climb up and sit on her lap. She chose to tell him now, rather than later. She breathed in deeply, and then out.

"Jim," she spoke in a voice like silk. "Your father was a wonderful man—he was strong and smart and charming. Oftentimes he was funny; he was always making jokes to make people laugh. He was always there for me, I thought he was too good to be true." As Winona spoke, she was reminded of the memories she shared with George. It was as if she was trapped in a dream. She looked down at the young blond, and it almost seemed to her like she was looking at a ghost.

Jim pursed his lips and looked down at his hands. "Where is he now?" He asked in a small tone. He was worried to hear her answer, Winona could tell.

She let out a shaky breath. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." She whispered and pulled Jim closer to her. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin atop his head protectively. No; he couldn't know that his father died the day he was born. He wasn't ready for that. Not at this age. Winona couldn't blame her son for crying, because she too let her tears fall.

Later that night, after she tucked Jim into bed, Winona walked outside into the crisp, summer night air. And with her, she carried her husband's classic iPod. (He was always into the little knick-knacks of the 20th century.) The wind felt good as it gently weaved through her hair, and dried away her remaining tears. But it wouldn't be the last of them for many years to come.

She stood underneath the same tree—like she did every night—and stared up at the stars. "Your son asked about you." She said. "I told him what I could but... I couldn't tell him about how—" She gulped, choking back words she couldn't bring herself to say.

"Baby, you're just harder to see than most." She looked down at the iPod in her hands. "I put the music on—the music you stored on this thing. I wait 'til I hear our song. And every night... I feel like I'm dancing with your ghost." Tears start to stream down her face, and it blurs her vision.

"I never got the chance to say a last goodbye." Her voice grew quieter as she spoke. She attempted to wipe away the tears, but they just kept on coming. "I know I gotta move on, but it hurts to try, George." Winona covers her mouth with her hand in hopes to muffle her sobs as they grow unbearable.

"How do I love?" She cries out hopelessly. "How do I love again if it's not you?" She continues to cry, failing to keep any of it in. That's when she felt a tug on her cardigan. Looking down, she sees Jim's big eyes, with Sam just coming down the porch stairs.

Tears start to form in Jim's eyes. "Don't cry, Mom." And just like that, Winona's on her knees and hugging her two beautiful children. They stayed like that for so long, that they went back into the house when dawn broke out on the horizon. That day, their mother called in for their absence at school, allowing them to have a day of rest and comfort in the warmth of their home.