Spock was surprised…shocked even…to find Jim sitting on the ground, in the dirt. His face was streaked with dirt and tear tracks. His legs were bent at the knees, drawn up protectively to his chest. One pant leg was torn at the knee and Spock could see Jim’s knee was bleeding.
“I scraped my knee.”
“I…see that. Jim…what is it? Why are you just sitting there on the ground?”
Spock dropped to his haunches and put his hand on Jim’s face, gently turning that face to look at Spock.
“I am certain that it does. And I am sorry.”
Jim nodded. But he made no move to get up.
“Can you come with me? I will get the doctor to look at your knee. We will get it and you all cleaned up and it won’t hurt anymore.”
“It’s all so much.”
“I know. But if you come with me, all will be well again. I promise.”
Jim stared at his torn knee. “Shouldn’t hurt so much.”
But then he put his hand in Spock’s and Spock stood, drawing Jim to his feet.
Spock took out his communicator. “Two to beam up.”
When they appeared on the transporter, McCoy rushed forward to take hold of Jim, who clearly looked confused.
“What’s wrong with him?” McCoy demanded. “What happened?”
“I do not know.”
“He looks…Jim, can you tell me how old you are?” McCoy asked.
Jim blinked. “Fifteen.”
“Well, that’s just…”
Nyota came forward, smiling at Jim. “Hello, Jim. I’m going to take you to the medbay, okay? Anywhere else hurt besides your knee?”
“No. Um. Well. My head. Where is this? Who are all of you?”
- okay yes, this one I did on purpose! HA HA