captain_jtkirk | .056

Entry tags:

.056 - lol back

[This is Papa Kirk. In true Christmas special fashion, he's come back to town. And he's a little drunk. AND YEAH I USE SEAN BEAN.]

Little baaaaby, pa rum pa pummm ppuuum I am a poooooooor boy too, pa, rum, pa, pum, pum pum ra ra pum pum pum pa.

Fuck. This song's repetitive.

Pump pa rum pa pum pum.

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I might be singing you a pretty song for one in a minute.

[He's knocking now. Let him in, woman it's cold :c]

[God you suck in all realities Kirk. She answers the door with a deep frown and a judgemental stare.]

Fair warning: if you start singing I'm going to mace you.

[Her tone suggests an actual mace might be involved. She steps back to let him in.]

[Well you're mean in all realities so there :|]

"Are you going to be pissy with me too?"

"You're not really in a position to be expecting much else right now, Jim." She leads him into the kitchen. Her house is warm but singularly unfestive because ~~she's a Grinch~~ she's too busy for decorating. "Where did you go?"

She is the Grinch :|

Jim shrugged a little. "Here and there. It don't really matter."

"I hope you've got a better answer than that ready when you speak to your wife and kids. Because they're going to think it matters." She went about rather aggressively making coffee.

Jim sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "I know. I don't have an excuse. I'm just a selfish ass, and that ain't anything new."

"So why are you back? And if your answer involves borrowing cash from guys you shouldn't have been borrowing cash from, in any way, that mace is not off the table."

She still remembered how he took his coffee, though.

He should've married you. Then none of this would be a problem. Well, that was a lie but it was nice to dream.

"The holidays are a shit time to be alone, turns out."

"Jesus, Jim."

Her shoulders slumped a little and her demeanour softened slightly.

"The rest of the year isn't a great time to be without a dad, either."

"All I can do is apologize. I can't go back in time and stop me from doing it."

"You could make the effort to not do it again. Go to rehab, get therapy? 'I'm a deadbeat loser' isn't an excuse, Jim, it's something you can still change."

"There's therapy for being a loser now? That's just ridiculous."

"There's therapy for whatever was making you so afraid to stay. If you're worried that being around your kids will mess them up, there are more constructive alternatives than 'not being around'."

"Like giving them up for adoption?" It's a joke. Though sometimes he really did question if they were actually his. "They're almost old enough to strike out on their own anyway."

"Carla's thirteen, James." She held out his cup of coffee and then put a slug of whiskey in hers as a blatant fuck-you gesture. "And John isn't mature enough to stop spraypainting dicks on storefront windows. They've got a way to go."

Yeah but Leonard was going places. Jim stared at the coffee mug for a moment before taking it from her. Something warm would be nice, even if he needed a little whiskey to face his kids.

"And how am I supposed to help put them right? Have you met me?"

One out of three is terrible. "How about cleaning up your damn act, Jim? Quit drinking, get help. You're an adult, you shouldn't need this explaining to you."

"Stop seeing you as well then?"

She pointedly didn't answer the question. "If I paid for you to go into rehab, would you?"

That made him laugh. "Pretty sure that just fixes the alcoholism, not the rest of it."

"You need to start somewhere, Jim. And fixing 'the rest of it' won't work if you're blowing all your time, money and self-control on getting wasted. Answer the question."

Since she didn't really answer his question... "If you wanted me to, yeah."

"Of course I want you to. Anybody who gives half a damn about you would want you to." Deflection time is the best time.

"That wasn't really what I was asking."

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