seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from China
seen from Japan
seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy
seen from Yemen
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
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[Chris winced as he glanced at the clock, 15 minutes until the ceremony started. He had half a mind to find the sorry excuse for a person who had thought it was a great idea to make Jim attend the Memorial Ceremony, and toss them out of an airlock. Jim was in no shape to face the crowds today; if this was any indication of what he’d gone through, he’d probably never be ready for it.] -continued-
[1/3]
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[He’d much rather be fighting a Klingon than making Jim go through with this, but unless some sort of miracle happened it wasn’t likely he could convince the Admirals to let Jim skip the ceremony. For now, at least, Jim was safely tucked away from the probing journalists lurking the corridors for the son of George Kirk. He doubted that his suit would be a lucky, but it was a small price to pay in order for Chris to help Jim. Seven minutes left.] -continued-
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Jim…son, you don’t have to go. I’ll make them understand, I’m not going to make you go. Not today. [His voice cracks, that stinging knot in his throat returns with a vengeance as he tries to keep from upsetting the sobbing man in his arms any more.]
[3/3] [His breath hitched again. Fingers dug into Pike's lapels, twisting the fabric as he tried in vain to catch his breath. It wasn't easy. Whenever he tried to breath it felt like something sharp was digging into his throat, his lungs. Jim dragged himself away from the Captain- moving slowly and reluctantly. He wiped his palms over his cheeks, hanging his head to hide his bloodshot eyes. Jim shook his head wordlessly, shoulders slumped forward.]
I'll go [He muttered half-heartedly, his voice dry and quiet.] I have to.
[He furiously wished that he could trade places with George, if only to make sure that Jim got the childhood he so rightfully deserved. It wasn’t long before the irrational thoughts of what could have been dragged a few smarting tears from his eyes.] I’m so sorry, son. I…I’d do anything- give anything- to bring your father back for you.
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[Jim hated his birthday. Hated it more than anything in the fucking world- hated it. When he'd been small his mother, his brother and he would've flown to San Francisco to attend the USS Kelvin Memorial Ceremony, every year. He'd stand in a suit and painful shoes every time, be rewarded with a cone of ice cream as they made their way back. They'd celebrate the day after, maybe. But it was sad and small and Winona would watch with pain in her eyes. After she stopped being around he stopped going, but he didn't celebrate either.
He'd never celebrated.
He also hadn't attended a Memorial Ceremony since he was eight. And now they were going to make him. Now that he was in Starfleet. And nobody seemed to understand except Bones, except Pike, why he couldn't bear to.
He tried to talk but instead could only whimper, pressing his face hard into Pike's shoulder.]
[Christopher rocks backwards with the force of Jim’s hug, but by some miraculous chance he manages to stay upright and return the hug with all he has. One hand rests on the back of Jim’s head, his thumb rubbing circles against his skull, as Chris tries to soothe the anguish he feels emanating from Jim. That look Jim had given him almost broke Chris’s heart, and he struggled to keep from breaking down himself. -continued-
[1/2]
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