This is the full chapter 1 of my Blog story. I’m going to keep it here for the time being. If that changes you will know, but I don’t think it will for a bit.
When Jim was a small boy he sometimes spent time with his gran, his father’s mother. He didn’t get to spend a lot of time with her but when he did, Jim always loved it.
At one time, according to Gran, she and Grandad had owned the farmhouse in Riverside, but they’d passed it on to George and Winona when they’d first got married.
Gran and Grandad had moved to a condominium in Chicago. By the time Jim used to visit Gran, it was only her, as Grandad had passed on right after Sam was born.
Jim was six and Sam nine when they got to spent the winter holidays with Gran. Mom had to be off planet at a space station that had required her engineering expertise for an extended period, including over the holidays, and it had been, mercifully, before Frank had entered their lives.
Jim had never been a good sleeper, even as a small boy, and he had gotten up in the middle of the night, three nights before Christmas, to find Gran rocking in her chair and sipping brandy. He’d crawled into her lap and she spun a tale for him.
“You know, Jimmy, our family has the gift.”
“Auyuh. The intuition.”
Gran chuckled. “Close enough, Jimmy. You can also call it the sight.”
“Everybody sees, don’t they?”
“Not that kind of sight. This is the ability to see what’s going to happen in the future.”
Jim frowned. He wasn’t sure what Gran was talking about.
“For example, I knew when your grandad was going to have a heart attack and pass on from this life. I foresaw it. And I knew your daddy wasn’t ever coming back from his last mission on the Kelvin.” She shook her head sadly. “But here’s the thing, now, Jimmy. Not all of us have it.”
“It can skip some people, some generations. Your daddy, Lord Rest him, didn’t have it. I used to ask him once in a while. But he never did have it. But you.” And she thumped him lightly on the chest. “You might have it.”
“Yeah?” Jim really had no clue what “it” was but the way Gran talked about it, it sounded cool.
Back then, when Gran told him, Jim hadn’t understood. He just knew he loved spending time with her and he loved that holiday time. It was his favorite ever.
And after she passed away and Jim remembered her words, he dismissed them as a story to tell a boy who couldn’t sleep.
When Jim got into the Academy, he began to experience moments he couldn’t quite explain. Like that night, after talking with Pike, Jim had gotten the absolute sense, conviction even, that he would meet someone who would become immensely important to him that next day.
And he had. Bones.
It was just little things like that at first. Easily dismissed.
But then he’d had a couple onboard the Enterprise right after he’d made captain. One where he died saving Spock. One where Spock died because Jim hadn’t been there. He’d been able to stop them, both of them.
It didn’t always work. He hadn’t foreseen Spock almost dying in the Volcano. And he hadn’t really known Marcus was going to betray them until it was far too late. But he had seen his own death saving the ship and he had let that one happen anyway.
Bones saved it, luckily.
Jim kept the visions to himself. They came in dreams, mostly. Sometimes day dreams where he seemed to go totally out of himself until the vision was over, as he had the day he’d seen his own death when he stood on the observation deck.
He expected anyone he told wouldn’t believe him. Once back in the academy he’d mentioned it in passing to Bones.
“Premonitions, Jim? Don’t tell me you believe in that hokey nonsense?”
And so he’d dropped it and never mentioned it to Bones or anyone again.
He even recalled that day when he was six, Gran saying,
“Now, Jimmy, there’s no point in telling most people what you’ve seen. They won’t believe you because they can’t. It’s just not in them. And it’s hard to keep stuff like that to yourself, especially when you want to change the outcome.”
And he could sometimes, like with himself and Spock that time during that one planetary mission. But sometimes, like with Khan, things were meant to happen, and Jim was finding out which visions could be changed and which could not.
Back when Carol Marcus was on the Enterprise, Jim had dreamt that the two of them had created a son together, whom Carol would name David. The very next day she had come to him and said their affair, which had ended a couple of weeks earlier after going hot and heavy for two and a half months, had ended up with her being pregnant. She’d left the Enterprise to work at HQ in San Francisco and Jim hadn’t been at all surprised when she’d named their son, David.
At the time, Jim had offered to marry her, certainly out of a sense of obligation, but also to numb his own pain over the continuing relationship of Spock and Uhura. Jim had it bad for Spock, probably would until the end of time, but Spock was with Uhura, and there was not a thing he could do about it but go on with his own life.
Carol, wisely, told Jim no. She was an independent woman completely capable of taking care of herself and a child without the old-fashioned notion that she had to have a husband. They were not in love and her son would be her number one priority.
And David had been. Carol was a great mother. Jim spoke to David whenever he could, not often, really, and life went on. In fact, David had been one of the reasons he had considered taking the vice admiral position on Yorktown. To have a more normal life with his son.
But then, directly after the events of Yorktown, Jim had another vision, and he’d chosen to retain command of the Enterprise.
And now, in only two weeks, the Enterprise would return to exploring. Only the final touches remained before they would be going out on their trial run.
For a time, Jim had remained on Yorktown, making sure that the new Enterprise was built to his specific requirements. But there came a time when he was no longer needed and so he’d gone to Earth for the remainder of his official leave.
Bones had gone to Georgia to visit with his daughter. Sulu had stayed on Yorktown with his daughter and husband. Jaylah was attending the Academy. Jim wasn’t really sure what happened to Scotty. Spock and Uhura went to New Vulcan together, probably to bond, Jim figured.
And Jim had gone to Winona. It had been a long time since he’d been back to Riverside. She was back there, in their house, after finally kicking Frank to the curb, and after she took retirement from Starfleet.
Next week, Jim would return to Yorktown with a week to go before relaunch, to, once again, make sure everything was in order. But he had a week left and he would make good use of it.
Jim had been on his way to San Francisco to pick up David for a visit with him and his mom, Carol had agreed to give them a week, when Jim had received word that Pavel Chekov had been killed in Russia, crushed by his own hover car.
The night before he’d had a dream about Chekov, one where he was injured in an away mission, and then the next day, Jim learned he was dead. Whether his dream had been some sort of foreboding, Jim didn’t know. He only knew that his Russian whiz kid was gone and he’d never hear him say, “Keptin” again.
He’d stood in the front area next to the door of the farmhouse doing nothing for a long time.
His mother touched his arm. “Jim, what’s wrong, sweetie? I thought you were ready to take the shuttle to pick up David?”
“Yeah.” Jim licked his lips. “In a second.”
“Honey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What was that? What’s happened?”
“Ensign…Pavel Chekov is dead,” he whispered. “A member of my crew.”
“Oh Jim. Yes, I remember. Oh, honey. What happened?”
“He was crushed by his hover car. Fuck. Damn. It’s so unfair. He was-he was just a kid.”
She embraced him then and he felt the prick of tears. He firmly pushed them away after a moment. He had no time for that. He’d learned to be strong, both externally and internally, from her, from necessity. And he would go on, as he had.
“Okay.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m going to go get my son. With luck, I’ll have him in time for dinner.”
She smiled. “I can’t wait.” She touched his cheek. “Be careful, okay?”
“Always, Mom. Always.”