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A Galaxy of Spiderwebs

Chapter 9: Life Continues

Notes:

So, funny story...
These last few weeks have been a little hectic, what with my power tools trying to kill me (first time i got staples instead of stitches, so that was cool) and a car accident flying pretty much right beside me. (That one I didn't even get a bruise. Shock? yes. Bruise? no.) and everything else going on, I'm just proud I got something written!
Its also 2 am and I am tired, so lord knows if this whole chapter makes sense.
It should.
I'll check in the morning.

Warnings:
Physical affects of starvation
Tarsus IV

as always, have fun, enjoy, and please don't shoot me!
Lost

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

J.T. had two skinned palms and two bleeding knees. The phantom memory of saying 'James Tiberius Kirk,' burned in his throat and this time, he knew he would choke on his name. Behind him, there were no smoking ruins of a starship or the twisted remains of a cherry red Corvette. Instead, he had a handful of children of varying ages huddled in the dark.

To make matters worse, J.T. has a stomach that has forgotten how to grumble, hands that refuse to be steady, and a tongue that just keeps on wagging. J.T. had a dozen kids and he'd be damned if he sent them to sleep in fear. He may have to send them to bed hungry but he'd never send them to bed in fear. (He isn't Frank.)

Little itty-bitty Sarah, too pale and too gaunt, looked up at him through matted black hair and the collar of J.T. 's leather jacket, and J.T. just kept talking. (There was nothing else he could do. There is no food, no water, and no more blankets to hand out. J.T. has nothing but the words in his head and a bunch of half remembered holos to offer.)

It wasn't enough. (It had to be enough.)

"...In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Now, this hole in the ground was not just dirt, rocks, and whatever the hell Tommy just picked up over there. Yeah, kid. I see you, put that down. Anyway, this hole in the ground. Danny, stop poking your sister. This hole in the ground was a hobbit hole, and a hobbit hole meant comfort…"

(If there was a joke, J.T. had yet to find it.)

The hours blended together and J.T. kept his voice low and his whispers steady. He one hand was rubbing circles into the shoulder blades that jut out of little Sarah's back like wings. He had another hand placed gently on top of Danny's ankle. He doesn't know if he's got the story right or if he's mashing a bunch of different characters together to create something happier. (If he is being honest, he didn't have the energy to care.) He doesn't care about much outside of his kids. 

(J.T. didn't even look up to the stars anymore. There was no point.)

"There were thirteen dwarrow and one wizard and Bilbo Baggins was not impressed…"

…***...

There was smoke in J.T.'s lungs.

In some ways, he thought it was better than the white poison on the ground.

His kids aren’t dancing or playing. Sarah barely had enough energy to sit up and totter around the cave. The twins were curled around each other, whispers slipping into the silence. Kevin and Jacob played with two rusted out dinky cars, and J.T. wanted to weep.

“We can’t keep going like this.” Tommy whispered into his ear, dust coating every inch of him. “We can’t.”

Well, they couldn’t go into town either. A smoky haze had fallen across Tarsus and J.T. didn’t know what to do. What could he do? If he went into town, he risked being shot. If he didn't, then they all risk starving to death. He can’t win, if he’s found out then the guards will hunt them down and his kids can’t run.

They couldn’t keep rationing, they barely had enough as it was. J.T. didn’t dare eat the wildlife that wandered through, coated from snout to tail in white fluff. And they have filters for the water, but those wouldn’t last much longer. They were going to die and no one would even know.

They couldn’t win.

Slowly, J.T. gave Tommy a short nod of acknowledgement even as he got up and stumbled towards Sarah. His Sarah was barely awake and she was far too light when J.T. picked her up and cuddled her against his chest.

“How about another story, eh?” J.T. called out softly.

The dust of the cave barely stirred as his kids gave a variety of grumbling answers. And slowly, so painfully slow, his kids crawled towards him, dragging ratty blankets and gaunt limbs behind them.

“Once upon a time…”

…***...

Annie and Sarah’s hair had begun to fall out of their haphazard braids in chunks. Sarah had been too tired to even notice as J.T. had rocked her, his hands gently smoothing her hair away from her forehead. Annie on the other hand, had stared at J.T. with glazed eyes and shuddering shoulders. (There wasn’t enough water for her to even cry.) Her brothers sat behind her, slowly detangling strand after strand, their hands shaking too much to be much help. J.T.’s boys had also begun to lose hair, but it was something different to see Sarah and Annie lose their long braids.

“It's ok.” J.T. murmured as Annie shot into his arms. He didn’t dare stop rocking his girls, not when Annie was shuddering and Sarah was blinking as if she had woken up after a long nap. “It's going to be ok. I’m so proud of you. I’m so, so proud of you and how brave you’re both being.”

…***...

The last of the soup hit the bottom of the bowl and J.T. watched as the realisation spread across Tommy’s face. There were seven bowls and barely enough soup for six.

“I’m not hungry.” J.T. lied, a shaky smile on his lips.

Tommy’s lips trembled for a moment and the boy, the sweet and kind boy, looked down at his bowl with shaking hands and hunched shoulders.

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” J.T. soothed with a rasping voice. “It’s ok, you can eat.”

Tommy gasped, his hands hardly touching the bowl.

"Hey," J.T. began, his smile trembling. "Hey, it's ok."

Tommy shuddered, his hands coming up to cover his face as he rocked back and forth, the bowls forgotten. "I want my mum."

"I know." J.T. said. What else could he say? It wasn't alright and he wasn't sure it would ever be alright. They were in a cave on a planet full of poison and there was no end in sight. They were just prolonging everything, that's all.

"I'll do a run." J.T. whispered as his kids slowly crept up and slunk away with their own bowls, arms huddled fiercely around the food. "Yeah, ok. I'll do a run tomorrow. Maybe old man Jenkins had some stuff set aside in his cellar."

He doubted it, J.T. really, really doubted it, but he couldn't keep sitting there watching his kids die slowly. He was damned if he went and damned if he stayed. At least if he went out of the cave, he would be doing something.

Reaching forward, J.T. picked up Tommy's bowl. With one hand, he grabbed Tommy's wrist and gently pulled it away from his face. "Come on Tommy, you need to eat."

…***...

Standing in the fruit cellar of the Jenkins farm, J.T. could have wept.

Water jugs, protein bars, canned goods, and a bug out bag were all tucked into the corner. It was a better bounty than he had expected, it was smaller than he had hoped.

They'd eat for a week.

He couldn't help but sneak a bite before he even began to pack up the supplies.

(J.T. was starving. )

…***...

The first run had made him bold. J.T. had come back with salvation in a bag and for the first time in days, he saw all his kids smile . Little Sarah had even been persuaded to stand up and walk towards him. (J.T. had nearly cried.)

And then he went back out again. Never for long and never too far away. And he knew better than to go to town. The smoke and the haze made the whole planet feel like a graveyard. Well, more of a graveyard he supposed. The dead outnumbered the living after all. But every run he did felt vaguely blasphemous, as if his attempt to carry his kids into the future was profanity against the planet itself.

J.T. never saw another soul during his runs. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Out in the fields, with brittle grass and white poison kicked up with every step, he sometimes thought he was the only one left alive. (On those days, if he cut the run short to go back to the cave and check on his kids, well, who was to call him out?)

But the success of the supply runs had made him bold. And J.T. had always figured that if anyone was going to get them caught, it would be him. Bad things always happened around J.T. First it had been his birth, a whole ship of exploding metal and screams. Then came Frank, and George, and that damn Corvette. Things went wrong when J.T. showed up and he knew it was only a matter of time.

Still, it was a bit of a shock when J.T. had called for a break in a round of Sorry for lunch, and Kevin refused his portion.

Concerned, J.T. had beckoned Kevin over. The boy tottered over with hands worrying the hem of his shirt and his shoulders hunched up around his ears. It was one thing if Kevin was declining his food because he thought he was being kind, it was quite another if the boy did not (could not) feel that he was hungry. The first was easy to fix, the later was much more concerning.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong buddy?” J.T. asked as he sank down to sit on his heels.

Kevin’s head was ducked down and he shuffled in place as if he were in trouble. J.T. frowned. For all that his kids were a well-behaved bunch, there was actually very little for them to do wrong. They hardly left the area in and around the cave and J.T. was the only one who dared to go beyond the treeline.

“We’re going to have some canned peaches for dessert.” J.T. tried again, his gaze shifting around to try and catch the boy’s eye.

Kevin’s shoulders practically crawled up and around his ears. “M’not hungry.”

“You’re a growing boy.” J.T. said flatly. “You’re never not hungry.”

Kevin shrunk further into himself and J.T. couldn't help but frown.

"I already ate, J.T." Kevin said, his hands twisting around and around. "I'm sorry."

J.T.'s gaze shot to Tommy over Kevin's shoulder, and already the boy was shaking his head. Instead of relaxing, J.T. could feel the tension in his shoulders wind tighter. Tommy hadn't seen Kevin wat, which meant…

"Auntie Mells said it was ok!" Kevin said with a gasp, his lips trembling. "I'm sorry!"

"What?" J.T. said flatly.

(He was desperately not thinking about the way his caretaker had flung out a hand. He was desperately not thinking about how she had hugged him that first night and told him about her dream. Miss Melloney had been bright bright bright but she was also dead dead dead… )

Kevin frantically nodded his head and pointed towards the very back of the cave. "She's in the tunnel!"

And J.T. was officially freaked out. Miss Melloney was dead. He had watched her die and there was no way in hell that Kevin had actually seen her. (Later, he would be proud of the way Tommy pulled Kevin back and gently rounded up the other kids. He would be proud of how they all slipped towards his bed and Tommy had shakenly pulled out J.T.'s phaser. Later, he would be proud.)

(In the moment, he only felt terror. )

Swallowing, J.T. stood up and walked towards the tunnel, falling to his knees when he had gotten close enough. He wasn't sure what he had expected to find. Kevin's blanket? The remnants of a nap that had convinced the boy he had eaten? Instead, he found little footprints. Kevin's to be exact. He was the only one with a zigzag tread on his shoes. The little bundle of data J.T. had stowed away had been pushed off to the side, the wrapping around it oddly disturbed.

What he did not expect to find were six sandwiches and seven cups of chilled juice. He could still see the ice cubes in the glasses.

"What." J.T. repeated flatly, his hands twitching even as his mouth began to water and his stomach began to twist.

Food.

Fresh food.

And even more impossibly, fresh bread .

There were little skitters of dread crawling along his skin and J.T. was stuck staring at the little plates and cups.

It was an impossibility.

It had to be a trap.

(Maybe, just maybe, it was a miracle. )

"She's down here!"

For a split second, J.T. was positive his bones had jumped out of his skin at Kevin's shout. His heart just about followed when he looked down and watched Kevin crawl through the tunnel.

And of course, there was nothing else he could do but follow.

Notes:

For my non-Canadian readers, please be aware that Sorry is the board game Trouble. The Canadian version often utilises a deck of cards instead of dice, but they’re the same game when it comes down to it, just different formats.