Latchkey Kids

John heaved his five-year old chest at his older brother, Joe, who was attempting to settle a dispute between his stubborn sibling and Jimmy, a tow-headed boy of the same age and determination as John. They were fighting over the large toy phaser rifle, each boy holding onto one end and neither one showing any signs of backing down.

Joe, a boxy seven-year-old wearing the plastic police helmet he hadn't taken off in the past two years, except to shower, placed his hands on the toy and said, "Let go, John, let him have it. He had it first!" It was true. Jimmy had been playing with the toy when John had come over and plucked it from his adorable little hands. Despite being the same age, Jim was the golden boy in the after-school care ward. He had big, bright, blue eyes, cowlicked, auric hair, and an infectious giggle. John was an unkempt, scrawny thing, still figuring out how to get around on his synthetic leg after an unfortunate incident involving an adventure he took in the air duct system of the starship in an effort to avoid a bath several months ago. He was an ardent, argumentative kid, constantly trying to prove himself.

When John held on to the toy tighter, Joe looked to the person in charge. She was sitting across the room, listening to her headphones and reading a PADD, popping a wad of pink gum while bouncing gently to the music in her ears. Some of the words that crossed Joe's too-mature-for-his-age mind were negligence, gross incompetence, and irresponsibility. These were buzz words he'd heard his father say whenever he talked about things going wrong on the ship due to a certain person or group of people.

The young woman, a student who probably took this job because her parents forced her, wasn't going to help control this situation. Joe twisted his mouth into a scowl and grabbed his little brother by his skinny shoulders and pulled him backward, yanking the toy out of his sticky little fingers. John crashed to the floor in a flash tantrum.

Jimmy grinned and said, "Thanks Joey!" firing the toy phaser at John three times before running off to escape his scruffy bully.

John looked up at his big brother with his fists balled. His little face was ruddy with indignation. Joe looked down on him, puffing out his chest to look as menacing as possible. Little John pushed himself up and rammed both of his fists into Joe's belly, knocking his big brother back unexpectedly.

Joe hit the ground and his beloved helmet bounced off his head and cracked on the floor.

From the look on John's face, he knew the gravity of what he had just done and he took off before Joe could get to his feet.

The daycare facility on the middle deck of the Enterprise was a place for the children of the crewmen of the flagship to stay when their parents were unable to be with them due to work duties. The afterschool program was lovingly called "the Latchkey" and offered activities and care for school-aged children too young to be left unsupervised. The Latchkey was always crawling with kids, supervised by young adults who didn't yet have official Starfleet duties.

Needless to say, it was chaotic place. Most of the teenagers banded together to work on their homework and talk about their love lives. The padded walls and floors and security enforced doors usually meant the kids in Latchkey were locked into a safe place and needed little else until their parents could come and collect them.

Joe usually found himself policing his little brother, who spent most of his time terrorizing the other children. John got special treatment ever since he'd lost his leg and it made Joe crazy. Their other brother, Lenny, who was eight, spent most of his time in Latchkey reading because books were the one thing John didn't ever try to take from him. Though John liked to draw pictures in his books on occasion which make him furious.

For now, Joe held his beloved police helmet in his hands, examining the vicious crack up the middle. It was ruined. Utterly destroyed. And, as he looked at it, the girl in charge of this section, Valerie, walked over and plucked it from his hands and said, "That looks sharp, kid," and she tossed it into the trash chute before he could protest.

His bottom lip trembled, dangerously close to an onslaught of tears. He fought the feeling, though, and twisted his little, puffed out mouth into a fearsome scowl and went in hunt of his obnoxious kid brother, his hands in pulsing fists at his sides.

John knew damn well that Joe was gonna be mad. He sought his one and only ally, a kind and compassionate little boy named Dorian who was a year older than him and was the son of the ship's chief medical officer, Dr. Ealy. Dorian was off to the side, sitting at a small table with the "half-blood Vulcan." John knew he wasn't allowed to say "half-blood" but his daddies couldn't hear his thoughts so he made sure to think it all he wanted. The alien boy sat with Dorian and they were having a quiet, thoughtful, shockingly articulate discussion while coloring with crayons when John approached and ducked under their table, bumping into their legs.

"Hide me from Joe!" he squeaked, hugging onto Dorian's legs annoyingly.

"One second, Spock," Dorian said apologetically. He peered under the table at his friend and said, "What did you do, Johnny?"

"I broke his hat," John admitted, squeezing his bottom lip between his teeth. One of his front teeth was prematurely missing.

"Oh no," Dorian said. "You better stay under there and stay real quiet. Don't make a peep."

John nodded intensely and ran his fingers over his lips as if zipping them, then pretended to put the key in his pocket.

Figuring that would keep his hyper friend quiet for a while, Dorian sat up and looked at the drawing Spock was creating with his crayons. It was a complex DNA structure. "This is my DNA. As you can see, the human influence is not as strong as the Vulcan influence," Spock said, his voice even and metered.

Dorian tapped his chin. "You represented the Hyper-Variable Region on your Vulcan side but you really failed to do so on your maternal side. I think you may be favoring the result you want to see over the most probable outcome."

Spock's youthful face stayed impassive. John peeked up at him through the table and thought he looked like an acorn with his pointed chin and his straight-cut hair. That thought made John giggle as he tangled himself into the legs of both Spock and Dorian.

Spock looked under the table at John. He wasn't a very big fan of the little nuisance and he was rather annoyed by the other boy's sticky fingers on his clean pants. "Would you like to get a snack now, Dorian?" he asked.

Dorian nodded and tried to get up. John clung to him. "Don't go," he begged.

Dorian looked down and said, "Why don't you come with us?"

Spock nudged Dorian silently, indicating that he didn't want John to come with them. Dorian looked at Spock with wide, blue eyes then back down to John. He whispered, "Stay here John, I'll bring you a snack later."

His reputation as a troublemaker was catching up with John and he sat on the floor under the table and pulled up his pant leg to fiddle with his synthetic leg. He poked at it and pounded on it with his fist, not feeling anything. He sighed.

Spock and Dorian walked to the snack table where a large tray of vegetables stood virtually untouched. They each grabbed a handful of baby carrots. "Why do you hang around John?" Spock asked, his little eyebrow arching innocently.

"What do you mean?" Dorian asked, crunching on a carrot, his face pinched curiously.

"He's really bad," Spock said, "always causing trouble. My father says that his father is letting him run wild."

"His dad is the captain," Dorian said seriously. "Captains are busy."

"Still, you haven't told me why you spend so much time with him," Spock pointed out, a yawn creeping up on him.

Dorian was infected by the yawn, covering his mouth as one forced its way through him. "My dad is the doctor who helps him with his leg." His voice was barely above a whisper. His daddy had told him it wasn't polite to talk about John's leg. "So we play after his visits."

"Oh that makes sense," Spock said, logically. "You are friends with John because your father makes you. My father says I should stay away from him."

A frown passed Dorian's face as he peered back at John under the table by himself.

Jimmy got over the phaser rifle quickly, abandoning it in favor of a different toy. When he saw Lenny reading a book on a bean bag in the corner, he ran over and stood in front of the grumpy boy.

"Go 'way," Lenny said, turning the page of his book.

"Can I watch the book, too?" Jimmy asked, his bright, oversized eyes matching his dimpled smile.

Lenny sighed and moved over. The kid was like a barnacle, always latching himself onto Len when he just wanted to be by himself. Jim fell into the beanbag beside his friend and asked to hear the book. Lenny grumbled but read aloud, knowing full well that Jim could read. He put his arm around the younger kid and read the story.

John watched from his hiding spot as Lenny paused to let Jim see the pictures. He huffed. Lenny never did that for him. He went back to poking at his leg and pouting. It made him sick that pretty soon Jimmy would be his step-brother.

John saw Joe stalk by and shrank into a little ball. He closed his eyes, too, as if squinting his eyes shut would make him even harder to find. Within a minute, he fell sound asleep, his filthy thumb jammed into his mouth.

When Captain Karl and First officer Chris arrived to the latchkey to pick up their kids, Lenny, Joe, and Jimmy all had no clue where John was.

"Where's your helmet, Joe?" Karl asked, not used to seeing his son without the silly plastic hat.

Joe stuffed his hands in his pockets. "John broke it, dad."

Panic crossed Karl's face and he shared the look with Chris. If John broke Joe's helmet, he probably went into hiding. Last time he went into hiding, he lost a leg to a vent fan. "John!" he called, walking through the daycare facility briskly, looking everywhere and calling to his littlest tyke.

Chris searched too, checking in oversized toy bins and calling out to his rascally soon-to-be step-son. "Johnny! Come out come out wherever you are, kiddo!" He knew Karl still blamed himself for John's lost limb and he wanted to find the little boy before the captain went into full panic mode.

Finally, little Dorian poked Chris on the leg shyly and pointed to the little plastic picnic table.

"Oh thank goodness," Chris said, putting a hand on Dorian's head. "Thanks, sweetie."

Chris shouted across the enormous space and pointed, "Found him!"

Karl clutched his chest in relief and headed over.

Chris lifted the table up to reveal John, still soundly sleeping in a little ball. He scooped the boy up and observed his dirty face, angelic as he slept.

Karl came over and ran a hand through the mess of hair atop his baby boy's head. He had to hold him in his arms and hefted him from Chris and smoothed a hand up the child's back tenderly. John stirred in his father's arms and sighed as he felt a kiss brush his cheek, by his ear.

"Daddy, Joe hates me," he murmured against the shoulder of his father's uniform, his hot, grubby hands coiling behind Karl's neck.

"No he doesn't," Karl said, patting his little brat on back, "But I am sure an apology would help him feel less upset about his helmet."

He set the reluctant child down in front of Joe who scowled.

"Sorry," John said to Joe, his fist rubbing at the sleep in his eye, his good leg twisting into the ground in contrition.

Joe rolled his eyes to the ceiling but ultimately wanted to please his dad. "It's okay," he conceded reluctantly, his sharp eyes sweeping up and down his lawless, impetuous brother.

John smiled and turned toward his dad with both arms up. Karl hoisted him up and said, "Oh you are almost getting too big for this." He pressed two kisses into his son's hair. "Stop growing."

"Can we go now?" Lenny grouched, his overstuffed book bag weighing his shoulders down.

Chris hoisted Jimmy up and cuddled him, getting a happy laugh as his reward, before announcing, "Let's go!"

The oldest boys walked along, describing their day at school while the youngest enjoyed being carried. They left as a family to go back to the captain's quarters for dinner.