losthunter | Thorn in the Garden of Life

Jim very carefully considers that. Paint, a brush, and a canvas. Maybe some water to rinse off the bristles between colors. While he can think of a couple of ways to improvise weapons from all sorts of household objects, he doesn't think there should be any dangerous memories linked to any of those materials. "We could give it a try."

Hunter stands up, and leads Jim into his art studio. He selects out a large canvas, placing it on the easel. Then rolls forward his acrylic paint supplies. He has opted over acrylic over other options, since it is easier to clean off and doesn't have much of an odor.

He lays out some brushes for Jim. And smiles at him.

"Don't worry about the subject, just start putting paint on the canvas. Let the colors guide you." He will still stay on guard, watchful to wait and see if any other memories have taken Jim.

"I've never done this before, so if I suck at it, I'm sorry," Jim says, half-joking.

He deliberately sets the red paint aside before he begins, though, and tries not to think about why. Instead he starts with black and purple, and begins transferring the deep tones onto the canvas.

Little by little, he begins to build up a night sky, looming large over a darkened landscape. Jim's hand is unpracticed at this, so it's not quite on par with Hunter's work, but it's decent enough for a first attempt. He's about halfway through adding the whitish arc of a comet when a memory takes him.

The Iowan night is quiet, with only the noise of nocturnal insects to break the silence. Eight-year-old Jimmy sits on the hood of the ancient car, looking up at the comet that is slowly, imperceptibly, making its way across the heavens.

Next to him, Sam has his eye pressed against the telescope's viewer, getting a close look at the surface of the comet. "Do you ever want to go up there?" his brother asks, lowering the telescope to look at the sky with the naked eye.

Jimmy shrugs. "I dunno. There's gotta be something interesting out there or Mom wouldn't be gone all the time." But it's also where Dad died, and that fact lies between them like a solid, living thing, unable to be ignored or overlooked.

Sam looks over at him. "It doesn't have to be Starfleet, you know. We could get out of here and join up with a cargo ship. Or go live on some other planet, away from here."

"I know." Jimmy's thought about leaving home a lot. Away from the endless boring fields of corn and wheat, away from the stepfather that doesn't give a shit about him or his dad's stuff, someplace where he doesn't have people constantly looking at him with pity. But he's also eight, and a little scared of heading out into the unknown alone. "You'd go with me, right? You and me against the galaxy."

Sam smiles and leans into him. "You bet, buddy."

For a first-timer, Jim is definitely doing a decent enough job. Hunter works on his own canvas, a small smile as he can start to see that Jim is creating a night sky. He can tell when a memory takes him, since Jim just lost focus and started to stare at the canvas.

Then he started to speak softly, only his side of the conversation is heard by Hunter. He has to wonder who Jim is talking to in that memory. It sounds like it might be one from his childhood, so that at least narrows down the options.

It doesn't sound like this is a bad memory, but Hunter is prepared to take action if Jim starts reacting violently.

The memory lasts a little longer, as the two boys watch the stars above. But then Jim blinks, and the sky is just paint on canvas in front of him, his paintbrush still held loosely in his fingers, almost ready to fall.

He closes his hand around it, rescuing it from dropping onto the floor, and looks around to remind himself where he is. Not Iowa. Not outside. Hunter's place. "That was... different."

Hunter moves a little closer to Jim, placing an arm on his shoulder. "You didn't seem to be upset, or angry this time."

"No," Jim agrees quietly. He hadn't expected that. "Sam and I were stargazing, a couple years before he left."

"Your brother..." Hunter nods in understanding.

"You mentioned that your mother came back into your life..." Hunter is not going to mention why. Still trying to avoid flashback triggers.

"Have you heard anything from Sam?"

"No." Jim shakes his head. "He might not even be on Earth, or somewhere where they get Federation news. We were close enough that I don't think he would've stayed away, if he knew what had happened."

The other possibility is that Sam is dead. Jim would rather not assume that until he knows for sure, though.

"Maybe that is something you could look into, before you leave on your mission. Just see if he is okay?" Hunter suggests.

"I don't even know where to start. The galaxy is a big place. It is very easy to disappear if you don't want to be found." Jim looks back at the canvas; he smudged the comet a little when he went into the flashback, and he starts to fix it, painting over the smudged layer.

"That worries me about Austin. If he will try to disappear now..." Hunter returns to his piece. He is working on re-creating the protestors who were outside City Hall. Just trying to capture their emotions and their concerns.

Jim glances over at Hunter. "At least the cops know what he looks like. They're looking for him, and he won't be able to get the watch off anyway. He'll turn up eventually." He might not be the most reassuring person to be around right now, but maybe he can help a little, in any way he can.

"I sent a message to my father, that Austin should be placed on a Most Wanted List, just in case he wants to leave the state."

Hunter wants to address what happened. But it is like walking on eggshells right now. He never knows what might trigger a flashback.

"My dad... he is a Senator candidate. That is why there were Secret Service there."

Jim doesn't know either. He knows what things can set him on edge under ordinary circumstances, and sometimes what can cause actual PTSD-style flashbacks. But this is something beyond anything he's experienced before.

"Is that some kind of special police?" he asks, just as cautiously. Cops and Jim Kirk have rarely been a good combination.

"In a fashion. Secret Service protect the lives of political candidates. So they are affiliated with the national FBI organization, allowing them to carry out their duties no matter what State they might be in."

Oh, good. Politics. Something that he has very few experiences with, besides the governor that he is trying not to think about. "So they're probably going to take his safety pretty seriously."

The comet still looks a little messy, but Jim decides to call it good, turning his attention to adding details to the landscape beneath the starry sky.

"That is my goal. Especially since Austin was aiming to attack him..."

Hunter pauses for a moment. "Until today... I had no idea that my dad was even running for political office."

Slowly, under Jim's brush, the darkened figures of two boys take shape in the tall grass, lying on their backs to look up at the stars. "Does that bother you?" He's not sure why it would, if Hunter and his dad don't get along, but Jim is hardly the poster child for knowing what normal family relationships are supposed to be like.

"He was always the type that wanted the spotlight. A political career seems like the next step for him..." Hunter paused.

"I just don't like some of his opinions, that he might implement as law."

"How much power does a Senator have in this century?" Jim's not terribly familiar with the details of twenty-first century US politics, and though this may be treading close to dangerous territory, he can't help wanting to understand the context. "He has to be elected, right?"

"Basically, every law that would impact the entire nation has to be approved by Senate first. And one of those is the contested transgender rights bill." Hunter explained. "And yes, he has to be elected. The Senate election for the State is a year away. But he is already in campaign mode."

"It's not unilateral power though, right? He has to get other people to agree to do that?"

"He does. But sometimes with a charismatic personality, and judging on some of those opinions are shared right now by our President..."

Hunter shrugs. "I just hope he can learn to open his mind to new opportunities."

Right, Jim remembers Hunter telling him a little about the country's current leader. "Sounds like a political shitstorm waiting to happen. Hopefully the people who disagree with those close-minded ideas are more numerous."

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