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Stardate 2233.04, USS Kelvin
"Ma'am! Your child has to be born now, but there's no guarantee he can be revived. The radiation could cause a multitude of heath complica-!"
"Screw the radiation, he hasn't shown signs of a soul bond! That along with the prematurity will cause stillbirth that we can't rever-!"
"Wait a minute, look at his chest. The soul bond's forming after all, it's faint but it's there. We have him!"
"We have a pulse. Ma'am, just hold on a little longer, you can do this, just push through it-!"
"Jimmy! Wake up, your heart rate's doing jumping jacks!"With a gasp, Jim snapped up from his nightmares, thin legs tangled in the sheets and his arm numb from where he'd been curled atop it. His heart pounded erratically at his ribcage in a stuttering melody of arrhythmia, his lungs seemingly clogged up by the smell of smoke and antiseptic. Resting a hand over his heaving abdomen, Jim struggled through the fear still in his gut, eyes flickering about the room to ensure his privacy and locked door before he allowed his mind to slip beneath the veneer of psi-null mental shields. 2244, the year was 2244, and he was safely bonded. It was his 11th birthday, today. "Lee, you up?," he whispered in reality, his voice rough from sleep. "I'm sorry I woke you."From the foggy, clotted layers of his mind, faint echoes of a chuckle reverberated through his chest, followed by warmth of a sinewy soul bond snapping into his conscious awareness. "Don't worry Jimmy, I was studying anyways. What's up with you, huh? I got palpitation readings everywhere, you're lucky I wanna be a doctor."Lee's voice was always low, but last summer it had dropped to such a growling, angry mess that had Jim laughingly calling him 'Batman' for months afterward.Through many ever-subtler questions as to the nature of soul bonds in sentient beings, Jim had long realized that his own bond was very odd. Lee shouldn't have been able to talk to him, different regions of Earth or otherwise, and he certainly shouldn't be able to feel Jim's heartbeat from so far either. Doctors called it a miracle, scientists called him an anomaly, and Lee himself said that Jim was just a really lucky kid. Ever since he was born and Lee was six, they'd felt each other's hearts. At the moment, Jim was immeasurably grateful, pressing a hand further into his ribs as Lee almost visibly worked to send over the feeling of his own, steadier beating.With the rapidly fading tendrils of sleep cane several intense sensations around Jim's body. His vision blurred slightly before settling a bit lower than his average, his skin settling into restless goosebumps while his hearing sharpened and his nose picked up the inexplicable scent of salt and sand. Unseen presences slipped into place in his mind, all at once loosening tension he hadn't even registered. Low murmurs and flashes in his thoughts were quick to follow, and Jim grinned with all his teeth."Hey Spock, 'Hura, how're you guys? Did I wake you?""No, Jim. Vulcans require less sleep, and as such I was practicing katras," Spock's velvety tone melted its way through to him, dulled immensely by distance but saved by the bond throbbing brightly between them. "Your query as to my state of functioning is received with gratitude, but I have no information deemed relevant to you as of yet."Following immediately behind Spock's dulcet drone was the sting of bright, angry inflammation in his throat as 'Hura coughed her way into an accented, rough response."You didn't w-wake me up Jimmy, th-this cough did," she managed, her soft bond settling underneath Lee's stronger, sandpaper-rough one. Between Lee's raw bond and Spock's felt bond and ability to project his presence as well, 'Hura's gentle, humming connection was a lifeline to Jim, not having anyone else-including himself-within their system of connectors that were as calm and non-excitable.