Celebrations Are Mandatory

Posted on Mon Jun 5th, 2023 @ 10:12am by Warrant Officer Samual Johnson
Edited on on Mon Jun 5th, 2023 @ 6:07pm

2,272 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: History Speaks
Location: Earth, South Tahoe
Timeline: Several months prior to assignment

"James Ramses Barnes!" Katherine yelled from down the stairs. "You don't stop that and you'll spend the rest of your leave grounded in your room!"

Rook looked up as he heard the heavy tread coming up the stairs. He shook his head and sighed. Some things, he knew, would never change. He took a look at himself in the mirror as the door opened and his 'brother' entered. The room was fair sized but made smaller with the two beds, two dressers and a wardrobe to augment the closet space. That left the space feeling almost cramped but since James was the only one of the thirteen Barnes children that didn't own his own home, that wasn't much of a consideration. When home, James - a Starfleet lieutenant - only spent time in the room to sleep and change. Unless he was grounded. Again.

Which was always the most likely outcome of his visits home.

Like it seemed he would be this time as well. "Rook!" he called out, his muscular frame easily toting the carry-all and filling out the Starfleet uniform in a way Rook knew he never would. The way Jim wore it, it was intimidating and comforting at the same time. Rook wondered how he could get his own appearance to come close to the same. But, so far, he knew he failed.

"Jim," Rook said, turning away from the mirror. He was still subconsciously fixing the gig-line even though the tie should cover it. Make it unnoticeable. Except to the man who was the most like a brother Rook ever knew. And his mother whose sharp eyes no longer failed to find a flaw in him. Not since she'd learned how blind she was to his actions when he was a teenager. Or Katherine, his other 'mother'.

Glenn would probably notice, but hide it with a smile and a soft word at some other time.

Jim, however, tossed his carryall to the bed and went straight to Rook, tugging at the material of the shirt until it was straight and the tie lay flat as it should.

"You got ten minutes before we leave, if you're not ready we're leaving without you!" Katherine called up once again. Her voice was that singular harmony of exasperation, love and pride that all mothers of slightly difficult children had for their most wayward children. “This is a big night for Samual, don’t make him miss it!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Jim called back down the stairs. “I’ll be ready on time.” It was a rare note of sincerity. No, Rook corrected himself, it was the way he spoke with his adopted parents. The sarcasm, facetiousness and even the casual, cutting jibes may still be there but if it were his parents, it was always said with love and respect. Rook had to remind himself that Jim was more than twice their age and when he first discovered the difference, how Glenn and Katherine could be his parents was confusing. But, he’d been on Earth and around the Barnes family enough to understand why the adoption happened in the first place.

"You excited?" Jim asked, beginning to strip away the Starfleet uniform in favor of the more civilian attire. As they were the only members of Starfleet in the family, they tended to wear civilian attire for family functions. . Except, Rook, picked at a spot of lint on the shoulder of his jacket, he wasn't family. Not really. Still, it made Glenn and Katherine happy to do things like this. From the moment Jim returned to Earth with him and his mother in tow, the Barnes treated him as if he were family. His mother as well.

"You know I'm not comfortable with this," Rook answered. There will be a lot of people gathering tonight. To celebrate him. His birthday. Even now, after more than a decade of celebrations, he felt as if he were merely being humored. If anything, he would rather have a small dinner with his mother and hope she didn’t spend too much on a gift for him.

"I meant Warrant school," Jim answered, giving the tie a final tug into position then crossing the room to the closet where he kept clothing to wear while at home. He chose a dark blue suit that was nearly identical to what Rook was wearing. The similarity wasn't coincidental. Though it favored Jim more, Rook still bought one in dark blue and another in dark, chocolate gray.

Rook knew that others derided his ‘hero worship’ but he didn’t care. He owed Jim his life, literally and figuratively. Jim was just a young officer when he met Rook. When Rook -

He shook his head, refusing to continue that thought. It was the most shameful thing in his life and so many times he felt everything that came after wasn’t deserved. That served as worse punishment, he considered, then if he’d been confined to a penal colony.

But Jim recognized that Rook went down the wrong path for misguided and wrong reasons. Jim recognized that Rook and his mother needed help more than anything else. And gave it to him. It would be years later when Rook learned that Jim helped him out of a sense of payback for the grace and help Glenn and Katherine gave him. By then the hurt of considering what he thought was an act of valor and selflessness was by and large selfish. But he already set his heart on joining Starfleet as a security officer just like Jim. Eventually, he learned that attempting to repay grace and kindness through another wasn’t as selfish as he’d first believed.

"Oh, that, yes," Rook said, giving a smile. Subconsciously he placed his hand where the disruptor wound was long healed. Not even a faint scar remained.

“Hey, none of that maudlin reminiscing!” Jim said, catching the motion. “Especially if you’re still determined to lie to your mother about it.”

Rook begged Jim to not tell his mother when he was injured in the course of performing his duty as a VIP protection officer. Nor Glenn and Katherine because they would tell his mother. The last thing she needed was to have something concrete to base her worry for his safety.

"Five minutes!" Katherine called. Even Jim looked at his chrono knowing he hadn't wasted five minutes already.

"Hurry up," Rook said, "I think she really means it today. You've been especially annoying. Nora's been complaining again."

"Yes, but Dahlia hasn't been," Jim said, dropping a wink. "She likes it."

Rook rolled his eyes. "She's six, and idolizes you, heaven knows why, but she does. Her mother's going to win that argument though and you're going to be grounded. Try not to be, I don’t think they’re going to let me come back after Warrant school and I can’t spend this month hanging out in this room!"

"I'm two hundred years old," Jim said, poking his head out of the closet while slipping into the suit pants. "I can't be 'grounded'. And I’m a Starfleet officer, they have no authority to do so."

Rook snorted laughter at that. "Sure, okay. And every other time we've been home together says otherwise."

Jim came out of the closet, buttoning his shirt as he gave Rook a look. There was...it was more honest and straightforward than Rook normally saw from his friend and mentor. In a way it scared him. Jim stopped in front of him, once again adjusting the lines of the suit jacket on the smaller, younger man.

"I'm proud of you," he said, almost a whisper. "I may not tell you that enough but it's true. You're a fine young man, you'll make an excellent warrant officer and you make me want to be better."

Rook shook his head unsure how to respond to that. Jim was goofing again. He must be. Jim was his hero, the one Rook looked up to. Mostly. There were elements of who Jim was that -

"Who could have ever imagined that a monkey-butt could be trained so well, but here you are!" Jim gave Rook a rough clap on the shoulder.

And there it was, as Rook would admit mostly only to himself, the part of Jim Rook wished were better. Yet...even the brotherly jibe made him feel good. Rook moved past him and grabbed Jim's shoes and put them on the bed. They were already polished to where the deep brown leather had an almost amber sheen to them. "Get dressed, you have to be there tonight since most of this is because of you."

"Oh, I wouldn't miss tonight for anything," Jim said, once again dropping a wink. “Plus, I told my parents you didn’t want a big, fancy shindig but…well…you tell Mom ‘no’ when she’s decided on something.”

Rook shrugged away the 'air of mystery' as another of Jim's idiosyncrasies. He looked around the room. He called it 'home' and guessed it was. Glenn and Katherine had put in the extra bed and dresser for him so that he'd have a place to stay on Earth. His mother's apartment was a small, one bedroom and barely had space for her. They'd tried to make it work but it made more sense for Rook to stay with Katherine and Glenn. He shared the space with Jim - the only bedroom left for any of the Barnes children. But he'd grown up hard and without siblings. Rook preferred sharing the room actually.

"Let's go, I'm not getting left behind because of you," Jim said, brushing past Rook as he shrugged the jacket into place. “MOM!” Jim called down the stairs. “Rook’s dawdling because he says you’re not supposed to give him a party!”

“Jim!” Rook hissed, rushing after the bigger man. “Knock it off!”

Jim stopped at the bottom of the stairs, however, as Katherine stood there. Glenn was just behind her, leaning on the cane that always indicated an episode where his Pah Norani syndrome flared up. Katherine beckoned to Jim. Again, it was odd. Jim was trained in numerous ways to harm others, including many unarmed ways. He was the tallest and broadest in the room. He was, underneath all the jocularity, a very dangerous man. Yet he instantly gave in to Katherine’s authority. Glenn’s as well, but Glenn had a much gentler approach.

Katherine performed the same wardrobe ministrations for Jim that Jim had on Rook. Straightening and fixing his tie, straightening his jacket. She looked at his shoes and gave just a small nod of approval. “This is Samual’s night,” Katherine said, looking past Jim to Rook and giving him a smile, “you’d better behave yourself and not ruin it for him. Even if he didn’t want a party with those who care the most for him. And stop making fun of him.”

Rook felt the warmth of the blush. “It’s not-”

“Hush now, son,” Glenn said, waving a hand for Rook to come over. He gave Rook a cursory glance and nodded. “We know how you feel but we still want you to know you are loved.”

Rook swallowed the lump that always appeared in his throat hearing those words. His father was killed before Rook ever had the chance to know him. Even with the colony not completely destabilizing for years after, his mother never dated or gave into other activities as so many other women. She maintained her strict standards and tried to impart them to Rook. To hear such words in a fatherly tone always gave Rook pause.

“Thank you, sir,” Rook automatically responded and saw the crinkle of eyes that indicated Glenn was about to admonish him for the formality.

“MONKEYBUTT GET MONKEY UNCLE!” The squeal was sudden and followed by a rush of a small form. The girl, Dahlia, threw herself hard into Jim’s legs, nearly buckling him to the floor from the unexpected attack by his niece.
“Jim!” Katherine hissed once again.

“ROOK!” Dahlia said. Even though Rook witnessed the ‘attack’ on Jim and set himself, the force of her small arms thrown around his knees was still surprising.

“Jim,” Katherine’s tone turned sharper. What she said next was lost to Rook as Dahlia, looking up at him with her dark eyes and gap toothed smile yelled out “Appy Birfday ROOK!”

“It’s just a thing we guys do,” Jim said, his tone sounding juvenile and churlish as he felt the scolding was unfair. “Right, Dad?” He turned to his father for support but saw, through Glenn’s smile and the twinkle in his watery blue eyes, he wouldn’t get it.

“It’s not fair!” Jim muttered. Whatever Katherine was about to say was cut off, once again, by Dahlia as she grabbed Jim’s leg.

“Monkeybutt get monkey ride! Monkeyride! Monkeyride!”

Jim chuckled but grabbed the girl’s outstretched arms and easily lifted her over his head and settled her onto his shoulders. “Alright, but we have to hurry otherwise we’ll have to deal with Angry Grandma!”

“Grandma not angry!” the girl said, but gave a smile and patted the top of Jim’s head. “At least not at Monkeybutt! MonkeyUncle gonna get grounded though!”

“Not if we hurry away!” Jim said. He trotted out of the house to the waiting transports.

“Come on, son,” Glenn said, shuffling in the same direction.
“Yes, sir,” Rook answered, keeping to Glenn’s side.

 

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