Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10576995.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Trek:_Alternate_Original_Series_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      James_T._Kirk/Spock, Leonard_"Bones"_McCoy/Nyota_Uhura, James_T._Kirk_&
      Leonard_"Bones"_McCoy
  Character:
      Crew_of_the_Starship_Enterprise, James_T._Kirk, Spock_(Star_Trek),
      Leonard_"Bones"_McCoy, Nyota_Uhura, Hikaru_Sulu, Pavel_Chekov, Montgomery
      "Scotty"_Scott, Spock_Prime, Sarek_(Star_Trek)
  Additional Tags:
      Post-Star_Trek:_Into_Darkness, Tarsus_IV, Hurt/Comfort, Falling_In_Love,
      First_Kiss, First_Time, Romance, T'hy'la, Sexual_Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-09 Updated: 2017-06-21 Chapters: 2/? Words: 7703
****** Against Hope ******
by Deliciouslychaoticbluebird
Summary
     Death, some say, is the end of everything, though for Jim Kirk, it
     just might be a chance at rebirth. But can someone really reach cloud
     nine before hitting rock bottom? This is a story of healing and love.
     Of embracing the future and dealing with the past. Of letting go and
     holding on. This is a story about hoping against hope.
Notes
     Contra Spem Spero - Hoping against hope
     The story picks up directly after the hospital scene from Into
     Darkness, though the first chapter is just the prologue.
     A shout out to my 2 platonic soulmates out there. You have put up
     with my ridiculous idea, my whims and fancies and cheered me on when
     I lost inspiration. As always, you are the Penny to my Simon, the
     Sirius to my James and the Grover to my Percy.
     Discalimer: For those who have triggers, this is a warning that this
     chapter contains mentions of physical abuse, non-consensual rape,
     starvation, substance abuse and death.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Contra Spem Spero *****
It's summer. Stardate-2246. Winona Kirk stays back at Starbase 7 for the
conduct of some essential experiment. As a result, Jim gets stuck at the Iowa
farmhouse with his stepfather with no school and no mother to run interference.
He tries his best to remain out of sight, spending most of his time at the
creek, the barn, and on rare occasions, the shipyard. The times he has to face
Frank, he puts on his best behaviour. He's soft spoken, obedient, and well
mannered. It works too, for half of the summer months at least. And then one
day Frank loses his job. He comes in rip roaring drunk and Jim knows the minute
he sees those bloodshot eyes, he's going to get it tonight. Before, Sam had
acted as a shield for him. Knobby-kneed, mild mannered Jim was invisible in the
face of his rash, outspoken older brother. Then, one Christmas eve Sam
disappears with only the words-
"I'm never coming back"
left behind.
That night, Jim suffers from a black eye, a swollen cheekbone, two bruised ribs
and something that feels like a sprained ankle. To complete the routine, he
also gets locked in the attic without dinner.
This continues for another two weeks. He tries to be inconspicuous, Frank beats
him, Jim begs, Frank beats him some more, Jim crawls back to his room- rinse
and repeat. That is until Jim drives Frank's car over the cliff. He figures if
behaving well gets him beaten too, he might as well go down flipping the bird.
He will show Frank and he will show the world- nothing can tame James T. Kirk,
not Frank, not his family, not even the vast unknown space where he was born.
Frank gets rougher after that, it's like he has gotten over whatever little
hesitation he had over beating up Jim. The punches come faster and harder. But
Jim takes them. And in return Riverside pays for it. Within one single summer,
the quiet, intelligent kid turns into a wild rebel. He always has a retort
ready and if not, his fist does the job. Jim even makes sure Frank gets his
message loud and clear, though that does not end well for him. He feels, for a
while, he can deal with anything the world throws at him. He stands at the very
edge of the cliff he had driven off a car from and screams -
"BRING IT ON!"
Then Tarsus happens.
**************************************************
Stardate:2246
There is a man behind him - a guard possibly - trying to hunt him down like a
rabbit. Jim's fast, always has been, but he's tired and the only thing that
he's had in the last couple of days is a moldy piece of half-eaten bread. He
knows the man is going to catch up to him soon and he has a moment of visceral
satisfaction that he had hid the stolen things in the hollow, to be collected
later when there is no danger of it being taken.
The man's just about 20 feet behind him now and gaining fast. It'd have been
easier and less painful to have given up before but he has to try at least. And
by God, he tries. His lungs burn from the lack of air, the winter temperature
making it difficult to breathe in, he's dizzy and his feet are numb from the
melted snow.
10 feet.
5 feet.
Jim closes his eyes and tries to brace himself for the impact. But when it does
come, a second after his estimate, it still knocks the breath out of him. His
heart jumps to his throat, his arm hurts where it is twisted behind his back,
his bruised cheek stings from the snow and bile rises in his throat in
anticipation of what's to come.
"Thought ya could run, eh kid?", comes a raspy voice in his ear, in a decidedly
British accent.
Jim thinks he's heard him somewhere, before everything went to shit, but he's
not entirely sure. His arm gets twisted even more, in the absence of an answer.
"Answer me!"
So he does. In a cold, defiant voice he sneers-
"Fuck you."
And then he waits. He waits for the man to make up his mind, he waits to figure
out what category he falls in.
The chances of him being a sympathetic he's-a-poor-hungry-kid have gone out the
window a long time ago. Now it's a toss up between a sadist and a perverted
sadist. Personally he prefers the former. It's less painful and quicker and
he's not all that eager to be naked in -5 degrees.
The hand on his back presses down instead of easing and he knows what kind of a
man he's ended up with.
Jim forces himself to relax. The last time, he had been in a particularly
defiant mood and he is still paying for it with a sore ass and a bloody back.
He can't afford something like that again. More of that means not being able to
run at full speed which in turn means hungry mouths for days.
One hand digs beneath him to get to his trouser buttons and Jim tries to block
it out. He tries to encase his mind from what is coming, fills his mind with
what he knows best - advanced mathematics, astrophysics and warpcore mechanics.
1.37…π=e e√1+e√1+e√1+e√1+e√…=1.37… - 2.2222/θ=1.37..
19²/θ²=1.37… θ²/19=.137…
1.37…e -1.37…=2… 12.3456789/9=1.37…
His trousers and underwear are down to his knees, he suddenly realises as his
body jerks from the cold, distracting him from the equation. The man digs one
knee between his thighs, settling himself more heavily on Jim. His hand drags
over his back and upper thighs and Jim swallows the bile rising in his throat.
Self disgust and loathing fills him. He knows this isn't right, he knows what
is happening would probably get the man prosecuted in a hundred different ways
in other planets but this is Tarsus and normal rules stopped applying a long
time ago. And anyways this is easier than being beaten black and blue or dying
like Ria'ila did, head smashed in just because he decided to steal from the
wrong person. The wandering hand creeps towards his butt crack and Jim nearly
sobs from the rising panic. This should be old by now, he should be used to
this, he thinks desperately but no, everytime the stiffening panic closes in,
making it hard to breathe.
The hand starts to delve. . .
π-1.37θ²=1.37… √e+√e+√e+/θ=1.37…
- (111111)²/9=1.37…x10⁴
Just when he thinks it's the usual run of the mill, the hand creeps to his
front and the careful dam that he had created on his panic breaks. NO, he
thinks. He can deal with it to some extent when the only thing he experiences
is pain but not this, not when his own body betrays him. His brain tells him
it's not his fault, he can't possibly control this but that makes it even
worse. How can he be so depraved to actually find pleasure? He thrashes and
buckles, anything to get the man off of him. He thinks that death is better
than this, in fact he knows death is better than this but then that would mean
he would be leaving a bunch of children unprotected, to be starved and diseased
and abused. It is a paradox. It is a battle that he cannot win but has to win
because the other option is not viable. He cannot give up. He hasn't had the
luxury to give up in a long time. There are no no-win situations in his life
simply because there can't be. Because the other outcome would be so, so much
worse. And that thought breaks the haze of terror long enough for him to see
that his compliance has made the man loosen his one-handed hold on him. Taking
advantage of it, he buckles and throws the man off. He scrambles in the snow,
knowing that its only a little while before the man regains himself from the
momentary confusion. But as it is with hastily made plans, crucial details are
often overlooked in the dearth of time. Jim has forgotten that his pants are
down to his knees. The edge of his ratty trouser and the snow stings at his
bruised knee making him lose a precious second and then it tangles up with his
legs making him fall face first in the snow again. By this time, the man has
recovered and is on him again like a predator on his food. This time however
that man is even more brutal. He pushes Jim's face hard into the snow making
him gasp in pain. The hand is back at twisting his arms again. The other digs
into his hips hard enough that he feels the trickle of blood. The man straddles
one of his thighs and leans down to lick the shell of his ear. He whispers-
"Next time you do this, I'll fuck you and then kill you"
That stills Jim. He doesn't heed to threats easily but this one he can't
ignore. He knows that this one threat is the easiest to follow up here and die
is the one thing he isn't allowed to do. He goes compliant again and the man
carries on. He hears the tell tale sign of a buckle being undone. His butt
cheeks are parted again and the weight comes down more heavily on him. The cock
presses against the crack of his ass and then pushed inside. It hurts just as
much as the first time did if not more. It was already sore before and this one
tears a ragged sob from his throat. It doesn't deter him at all though, in fact
his enthusiasm increases by half a dose. Jim sets about painstakingly building
his barriers again. He forces himself to ignore the pain and the slap of skin
against skin. He starts with a new equation, the hardest one, the one that he
knows will occupy his mind. . .
0=-(ρu1"u2") dξ/dx²- (ρξ"u2") du1^/dx1 -d/x2 (ρu1"u2ξ")
+d/dx2 (μ/Sc u1" δξ/δx2 + ξ"τ1.2 -τ1'j δξ/δxj - μ/Sc δξ/δxj δμ1"/δxj
A particularly hard thrust pulls him out of the equation. He registers the pain
in his ass, the pain in his bruised knee, the sticky dried blood on hip, the
numbness of his twisted arms and the crick in his neck where the man's other
hand has been holding him down. He pushes the physical world out of his brain
again and immerses himself just in time to catch the last threads of the fading
equation. . .
Φ= 0.369 π/9^ q+ñ1ζ/δu=3.6
(1.45763/θ2)+ q+ñ1 ζ/δu - (π2/δμ)ξ" (ρν"ρζñ/M2Ce) δρ'-δζ δρ/δθ
This time its the wetness that drags him out. The man grunts and groans above
him and Jim feels liquid drip down his inner thighs, hot against his cold skin.
The pressure against his neck and arms increases for a moment as the man slumps
down in satisfaction, making Jim choke and gasp in order to take in a proper
breath.
"Good boy. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"
The pressure disappears and Jim thinks he hears the sound of a zip being done
and a buckle being tied. Jim curls into himself trying to make himself
disappear but clearly he fails. The very next moment a swift kick is delivered
to his head that makes him see black for a moment or two. When his vision
returns, the man is gone and the snow around his face is steadily turning red.
Jim pushes himself up, does his pants and drags himself towards the place where
he hid the food. He could have died today, maybe he will die, given the
extensive bruises he now sports. But he knows he won't, simply because he
cannot afford to do so. So he does what he has always done. He survives.
**************************************************
Starfleet arrives 2 months 6 days after that, called in by Jim in a fortunate
and desperate raid to the Town Hall.
Starfleet arrives 7 days after little Isa dies, screaming and writhing in pain
in Jim's bony arms as the fungus ruthlessly attacked one organ after another.
The officers try to be kind and understanding but all Jim sees is pity. He does
what is asked of him, answers all the questions that are asked but he's
detached. He tries to feel but there's nothing, not even relief. He thinks that
Tarsus took it as the final payment for survival. Likewise there is no pain as
the two precious kids he's managed to save, two out of eight lives, are taken
away to different ships. They are crying out and reaching for him but he
doesn't move. Jim just stands and stares until the officers finally ask him to
come with them.
**************************************************
Jim returns to Nowhere, Riverside, Iowa. By now the people know to avoid him.
They don't know what to make of him. He changes from the victim to the
perpetrator to the victim again faster that one can blink. At first Jim
appreciates it. He cannot bear to come in contact with normal people and he
cannot feel what they expect him to feel.
But then human urges take over. He wants to feel. The hollowness inside him is
unbearable. Thick and suffocating. He tries his mother first. He hasn't seen
her since she left two months after his return but he thinks she might be able
to dig something out of him now, even if it is anger. But she makes excuses,
tells him that she has experiments. But Jim knows it's guilt. First it had been
guilt over surviving and now it's over not being there.
So he searches for other methods. He gets into a fight at school and feels
something, triumph, for the first time in months. He fucks Tina Turner in a
barn and that makes him feel pleasure and satisfaction. He also fucks Nate
Thomas but doesn't let him fuck Jim back. He doesn't think he'll ever be ready
to let go of the control or tamp down the panic that rises at the thought.
But these feelings become too much. As soon as the novelty wears off, they
remind him off Tarsus, bringing back memories at a dizzying speed. Jim flails
about trying to find the right balance, to be able to feel and not remember.
Then he discovers drugs and alcohol. And it turns out to be exactly what he
needs. They magnify the feelings and mute out Tarsus. So he lets himself drown.
His life becomes an endless parade of fights, sex, drugs and booze. It occurs
to him once or twice that of all the things, he's never even come close to
feeling contentment or happiness but then again, he's too far gone to stop by
that time.
**************************************************
Stardate:2255
Jim gets into a fight with three Starfleet cadets. He had had every intention
of quietly drinking himself to oblivion and dragging himself home. But then a
girl in cadet red turns up beside him and he flirts with her out of habit. He
doesn't expect anything out of it but what the heck. No harm done. But then
he's interrupted by a rugged giant of a man.
The man rubs Jim in all the wrong ways. He's obviously jealous of the attention
Uhura has given him and wants to assert his importance over others. He brings
the memories of Tarsus too close to the surface and Jim feels his blood boil.
He could have stopped himself but Starfleet has never really had a calming
effect on him. So he rolls with it. Throws in punch for punch, gets high on the
euphoria.
Until the other two join in from nowhere.
He's been beaten up black and blue but it isn't too bad. For a while he thinks
he's had the worse for the day. And then Admiral Pike walks in, half honour,
half courage, all authority. He sits down beside Jim and persuades him to join
the one organisation that Jim associates with everything bad in his life. Jim
laughs at him. Pike tells him that he could have his own ship in eight years.
He dares Jim to do better than his father.
Well, everyone knows what Jim is like with dares.
That night he lies awake, unable to sleep. His thoughts refuse to be organised.
The rational part of his brain tells him that he should refuse. Starfleet is a
life of danger, a life where you just give and give. But then there's that tiny
part of him, the part that suspiciously sounds like the little boy who once
dreamed of spaceships and exploring stars, that tells him to take the risk.
That that is where his destiny lies. That he's meant for more than this.
So the next day, he's off to San Francisco and just because he likes the look
of surprise on Pike's face, he tosses a-
"Four years? I'll do it in three"
**************************************************
As it turns out, completing one of the hardest courses in the universe one year
ahead of schedule is not at all easy. He does not revert to his usual routine
simply because there's no time for it. The occasional drug becomes a thing of
the past because the academy does routine drug tests. Booze is demoted to
occasional because the pub is a half an hour walk away. Sex too becomes a once
in two or three weeks thing because he has too much work to do. And Jim
realises that he doesn't need them to function anymore. His brain rarely strays
to the darker corners as long as it is kept occupied with astrophysics and
advanced mathematics.
He tries the Kobayashi Maru twice. First time was just to see what all the fuss
was about. But the loss strikes something deep and dangerous within him. After
going to unimaginable extents just to survive, Jim cannot accept that there are
"no-win situations" out there. It feels like a kick to the gut, as if he's
being told he's overcome every obstacle in his life for nothing.
The second time yields the same results and that makes him desperate. He no
longer cares what's right or wrong. He has to win. He decides to cheat. He goes
to the extent of sleeping with Gaila to get the access codes. There is a twinge
of guilt in his heart for that but then again, for him sex has always been a
bargain chip, no different than credits.
He passes the test but the euphoria last for only a few days until he's called
before a tribunal to answer for his methods. And suddenly, the vindictive voice
on his head, telling him that he has no right to survive has a face and a name.
Commander Spock. A vulcan with surprisingly human eyes.
Spock brings out the brutal, vengeful side of him that has no problem in
tearing someone apart with bare hands. He wants to scream at the guy. What does
a well born son of an ambassador know what it is like to be in a no-win
situation? What does Spock know what its like to survive when survival's
impossible? Jim does. His life has been nothing but one no-win situation after
another.
**************************************************
Stardate-2258
Jim sneaks into the Starfleet flagship, jumps off a huge-ass drill to save a
man he barely knows, watches a planet get destroyed, gets marooned on a frozen
planet, meets an old and future friend, is nearly choked to death by an angry
Vulcan (Oh, the irony of it), hijacks said flagship and saves earth.
All in a day's work.
Starfleet rewards him. He's commended and given command of the very ship he had
so-called hijacked. They tell him he's his father's son. Jim tries hard not to
snort at that. He mostly fails.
**************************************************
This new life Jim gains is probably the closest to happiness he's ever come.
Yes, the Satrfleet créme de la créme weren't exactly happy with his rise to
intergalactic fame but that was inconsequential out in the vastness of space.
Jim has an awesome crew, teeming with some of the greatest minds in the
universe, if he does say so himself. And that includes Spock too. Jim considers
Spock his friend, there are some things that one can't do without gaining a
certain camaraderie. But that camaraderie is one of the most precarious things
in the ship. Usually they are professional with each other, working seamlessly
as the command pair, other times they are achingly familiar, especially when
playing chess, Jim teasing and cracking jokes and Spock raising the 'eyebrow'.
But then there are also times when they can't fit together no matter how hard
they try. Those times are something every member of the crew abhors. Jim shouts
and screams his opinions and Spock tries to out logic him in a cold voice.
As time passes, however, the railing matches become less and less. They come to
know what makes the other person tick and make the necessary adjustments. At
times, Jim even gets away with imagining the great friendship they are supposed
to share later on in their lives.
All in all, when Jim's lying in his bed, dead into the gamma shift, he sends
out a thanks to whoever is listening for making him take Pike's offer. Maybe
he'll finally heal, Jim thinks.
**************************************************
Stardate: 2259
Jim Kirk dies. Jim Kirk dies in the warp core chamber of his beloved ship,
separated by a thick glass from the person, he now realises, might have become
more than a friend to him one day.
**************************************************
***** Vita Ante Acta *****
Chapter Notes
     Vita Ante Acta- A Life Done Before
     So, sorry for this late update. Not really a good way to start a fic,
     I guess, but to be honest, I have been busy with my college finals
     for the last couple of months. Now, that I have a breather for about
     a week, I could finally finish up this chapter. Hope you like it. As
     before, feel free to express your opinions in the comments. And to
     those who commented on my prologue and those who left kudos, THANK
     YOU!, you quite literally got me to the end of this chapter.
     To my platonic soulmates: You are the Leggatt to my Captain.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
'Because you are my friend.'
He hears it repeated over and over again, echoing in the hollowness of the
space he resides in. Jim knows it's a simple sentence spoken in his mother
tongue but the meaning somehow escapes him. Whenever he tries to grasp them,
the words slip through his fingers like sand. Neither can he remember who had
spoken them. The voice belongs to someone important, he knows that but again,
the information exists only at the fringes of his consciousness, there and not
there at the same time.
Jim's floating somewhere. It's a blank scenery, like a canvas wiped clean.
'There should have been something there', Jim thinks time and time again. 'My
life is not this unmarked page. It has blacks and reds (so much of it), and
tears and scars. But there are also golds and blues. And cello tape too
perhaps. Anything but nothing.'
There's a pulse of blue through the background. A vibrant shade that pulses to
the beat of some foreign, unknown music for barely a second before disappearing
as fast as it appeared. The blankness is here again. But it had been there. Jim
can hope now. The blue (Science Blue his mind supplies) tells him it will come
back. So Jim settles down and lets himself drift through the darkness, losing
every semblance of time.
But then, there are more voices.
'What is it?’, it’s a male baritone too but different from the first one,
familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
'It’s a boy', a woman replies and Jim thinks: I know you.
'Lets call him Jim', comes the reply.
'Your father was captain of a starship for 12 minutes. He saved 800 lives.'
'I dare you to do better.', the sentence that changed his life, for better or
worse he doesn't know yet, spoken by someone whose no longer here, something
tells him.
Then finally, the blue is back. Lighting up his mind, jolting his consciousness
out of whatever limbo he had been trapped inside of.
'I'm scared, Spock. Help me not be. How do you choose not to feel?'
'I do not know. Right now I am failing.'
'I want you to know why I couldn't let you die. Why I went back for you.'
'Because you are my friend.'
'Because you are my friend.'
Jim comes back to life with a deep, choking breath like he's surfacing from the
depths of the ocean after a century. In a sense, maybe he is. But damn, if it
isn't nice to feel his chest expand.
He's considered what it feels like to die numerous times, considered different
ways he could go, from mortal wounds to infections to honest-to-God hunger.
Okay, so maybe that's not where he needs to go at this moment but really he's
never once thought of coming back from the beyond. Even if he had, it wouldn't
have been . . . this. Slowly floating into his mortal shell maybe? Angels
blowing trumpets and showering him with divine flowers? This was just . . .
horrendously mundane.
"Don't be so melodramatic. You were barely dead. It was the transfusion that
really took its toll." Bones pops up into his sight from seemingly nowhere, the
same annoyed, exasperated expression stuck on his face.
Huh. Being dead surely warrants a bit of sympathy doesn't it. But then, Jim
isn't sure he's ready to accept the reality of what happened at this moment.
Better pretend it's just another botched up mission. Oh wait . . . it is.
"You were out cold for two weeks."
Two weeks? That's not too long. 14 days is perfectly viable. Not too long, not
too short.
Then his CMO's previous words finally register in his mind.
"Transfusion?"
"Your cells were heavily irradiated. We had no choice." Bones looks guilty.
Oh.OH. His blood chills a little at what that could mean.Khan.
"Khan?", he has to ask because that particularly unexpected bag of cats is too
much for even Jim.
"Once we caught him, I synthesized a serum from his superblood." Bones looks
nauseous for a second. "Tell me, are you feeling homicidal? Power mad?
Despotic?"
"No more than usual." He replies 'cuz Bones has this terrified light in his
eyes like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, despite what his face says
and because well. . .he isn't. Feeling all that, that is.
"How'd you catch him?" Curiosity: 2. Jim: 0
"I didn't." And he turns towards the foot of Jim's bed to reveal . . . Spock.
Okay, why the fuck are people popping out of nowhere today?
"You saved my life." Jim finally says after a frantic debate. And he means not
just the catching Khan thing, but also all the other instances that had either
been a result of his rotten luck or his own instincts.
He means: You saved me from myself.
And Jim thinks, from the softness in Spock's eyes, that he understands.
"Uhura and I had something to do with it, too, you know." Of course, Bones
intrudes. It's his mission in life to intrude upon Jim's meaningful
conversation, even when he's having them with that big lug himself.
"You saved my life, Captain." Spock words mean more than they seem too and
Jim's blown away with the acknowledgement. He did not expect that. And then in
the way of the emotionally malnourished he deflects. . 'And the lives...'
'Spock, just...' He interrupts because Spock is not allowed to do that, not now
when Jim's still not over the novelty of breathing.
"Thank you."
And Spock understands. "You are welcome, Jim."
Spock gives a brief summary of the condition of the ship, tells him about the
death of crew members (36 his subconscious screams), details the repairs and
upgrades assigned to the Enterprise and excuses himself. It bothers him a bit.
Spock had sounded like he was quoting a report verbatim. But Jim guesses that
he's probably met his quota of emotions for the year and decides to let it go.
He kind of drifts off after that. Bones occasionally mutters and groans but he
otherwise remains quite. Jim tries to sleep, probably has enough of the good
stuff in him to be knocked out cold but somehow he's unable to slip into
unconsciousness. He lingers in that blissful and torturous state between awake
and sleeping. Aware of the various beeps and buzzes and mutterings but
oblivious of the context or time.
When he's finally dragged out, it’s by a sharp pain in his neck, one he knows
very well.
"Ow! Bones! Have mercy on the recently dead will you?"
"Recently dead people do not have the right to complain about hypos. And
particularly those your weak, atrophied muscles are very much in need of."
"I'm fine. Seriously! You need to stop overreacting Bone-o." Jim grouches.
Bones' scowl is something fierce, one he only brings out in special occasions.
"I have watched your corpse be put in a body bag. I have committed a deed of
questionable ethics just to bring you back. I have barely slept in the last 2
weeks just 'cuz your fucking self kept flat lining. So if I'm overreacting,
shut your mouth and just take it."
That does shut Jim up for a while. A retort of 'No one asked you to' is on the
tip of his tongue but he at least has enough self-preservation to know that's
not going to end well.
Okay . . . shutting up has never really worked out for Jim. So he fiddles with
the sheet, stares at the wall, the machines, the half drawn blinds and opens
and closes his mouth nearly a dozen times before Bones finally lets out an
exasperated but somewhat amused sigh.
"Out with it Kirk."
"Were the others effected by my . . . uh. .”
This time the amusement is clearly visible on Bones' face.
"Well, Mr. Scott was pissed off, which is kind of justified given how you
punched his lights out, Uhura was a bit teary, Chekov probably sobbed in secret
somewhere judging by his. . ."
"Bones."
"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't remember that 'other' clearly means a certain green-
blooded, pointy eared hobgoblin."
Jim just huffs and lets his head fall back on his pillow.
"It’s just that Spock was so stiff!" Bones raises an eyebrow at him. "Not his
usual stick-up-his-ass stiff! But . . . but like looking-alive-will-kill-me
stiff."
Bones sighs and puts the pad he had been meddling with down at the foot of
Jim's bed.
"Go easy on him kid. He . . . when you died Spock just kind of lost it, ya
know. All that Vulcan teaching went out of the window. He just wanted to kill
Khan, damn the consequences." Bones stops after that, seemingly lost in his own
thoughts. Then after a moment he recovers and his focus is back on Jim again.
"He chased Khan through probably half of San Francisco before he . . . If Uhura
hadn't beamed down when she did, he probably would have killed the man in cold
blood."
It doesn't seem there's an appropriate reply to that so Jim remains quiet.
Frankly he is a bit lost at the moment. Yes, Jim was Spock's friend, the man
had claimed as much when he . . . well. .but what Bones described just now,
Spock didn't do that kind of shit no matter how much emotional Jim suspected he
was deep down.
Bones probably notices his lost expression because he looks up at the ceiling
with his patented why-me look. "Get some sleep kid. Your body needs it"
**************************************************
Spock roams the halls of Starfleet aimlessly for hours. If anyone dares to ask
him, he will say he is on official business, he even has the paper work to
prove it but he knows the truth. He is here because this time had been set
aside to be at his Captain's bedside but him gaining consciousness has
nullified the necessity of Spock's vigil and hence Spock is free to do his
other work. Only he finds himself unable to concentrate. So he walks. And he
thinks.
As long as Jim had still been in a critical stage, Spock had not allowed
himself to examine the incident closely. At least, that is what he tells
himself. A voice that sounds suspiciously like his mother's tells him he is
just making excuses.
Vulcans do not make excuses.
But now Jim is alright. He is awake, fully cognizant, perfectly verbal and
likely to make a quick recovery. And Spock finds himself unable to keep his
mind otherwise occupied. Thinking of his Captain's blue eyes brimming with life
reminds him repeatedly of the same eyes being lifeless. The images flash in his
mind- a glass door, a ta'al raised in a final farewell, a desperate need to
just touch, to grab, absorb, keep safe, of failure and grief, so much grief,
worse than losing a mother or even billions of brethren and of anger, a thirst
to kill.
Spock falters in his step for a moment. Even as the image fades, he can feel
the anger right there beneath the surface of his mind, ready to be unleashed at
the first sign of a threat. He has not felt anything like this before. Had not
thought it possible to feel this way, as if years of Vulcan training meant
nothing and he was back in the barbaric, pre-Surakian times.
Even now, after weeks of meditation, he is no closer to satisfying that part of
his katra. It unsettles him as nothing has done before.
And at this point, his mind seeks the comfort of home, a solace from this . . .
turmoil. Before Jim's awakening there had been no opportunity of that. He was
needed here. But now, he thinks he can perhaps go to the colony, calm his soul,
organise his mind and if opportunity allows ask some important questions to a
certain person.
Yes, he thinks. He will make the necessary arrangements with his father tonight
and leave for New Vulcan within a week. The Captain will surely be in a far
less critical state by then and Spock will be able to fully concentrate on
himself.
When the voices of workers and the grinding of machines finally make him aware
of his surroundings, he finds himself in the congregation hall, where he had
once accused Jim Kirk of cheating and where that same man had been awarded his
captaincy. The outer wall, with its glass panels and balconies, is in complete
ruins like so much of the city, the room now opening directly into the campus
grounds. The workers are cleaning up the rubble, breaking down the larger
debris and transporting the smaller ones.
So much destruction, Spock thinks, just to satisfy one man's greed. But perhaps
that is the way of the universe. It only takes one to destroy so many. After
all, the loss Vulcan had also been the outcome of one Romulan's grief. Then
again, the universe also seems to have placed the burden of preserving it on
the shoulders of one man. And what capable shoulders they are, to have come
through no matter the obstacle or the limitations. Even death has bowed down to
the force that is Jim Kirk.
But how much longer?
Spock finds himself in a paradox of sorts. He is in wonder of his Captain's
invincibility and at the same time painfully aware of his mortality, of the
fragility of human life. There are innumerable ways in which this could have
gone down and so many of them end with Jim Kirk as merely a name on the
Starfleet Memorial Wall instead of recovering in Starfleet Medical. Merely the
thought of it makes him want to react violently but his Vulcan mind controls
him. He consciously pulls his mind away from that dark, convoluted mass of
emotions. Not now - he tells himself.
He is about to leave the hall, has already turned around towards the corridor
when a familiar voice drifts over the cacophony. Spock hesitates for a moment,
finding himself strangely reluctant to participate in the conversation that is
to follow, but then pushes it away to turn around again. It is his personal
duty to inform her of his leave and he suddenly finds himself desperate to, as
Jim often states, just get it over with.
Nyota is standing there at the very bottom, shifting through her pad and
voicing orders at the workers time to time. Spock has known for quite some time
that the crew are volunteering with the clean-up process. However he had been
unaware of her assignment in this particular part of the academy.
Spock takes in a deep breath and starts to trek his way down the steps, moving
around debris and broken chairs. Nyota does not see him until he has nearly
reached her. When she does, there is moment where she freezes and stares at him
with a caught expression.
Spock refrains from commenting on the behaviour and raises his hand in
greeting.
"Spock." He merely waits as Nyota composes herself. "I wasn't aware that you
would be on this side of the campus today."
Her voice holds a thinly veiled thread of accusation and Spock accepts it
without any argument. He deserves it, he is aware of that, particularly given
the fact that he has not initiated any contact with her since she had left him
outside Jim's room two weeks ago. He is even aware of the times she had left
messages on his comm asking for him to meet her. But he had been in a haze of
anger and terror, unable to concentrate on anything other than his Captain.
Hence, he had simply ignored it, put his guilt at the back of his mind and gone
on with his day. Now however, he is unable to do so with Nyota's brown eyes
fixed on him. So he does the one thing he can. He answers her truthfully.
"The Captain has woken up."
Nyota's eyes soften on hearing that and slowly her face breaks out in a broad
smile, he now realises, he has not seen in a long while.
"Oh Spock. That is. . ." Her eyes are glistening now. "I am very happy that he
is awake. He's alright though, isn't he?"
"He was his usual self when I left."
She hums at his answer, amusement clear in her voice but then the slight smile
drops off and she arranges her face in an unreadable expression. It had been
one of the qualities in her that had persuaded him to court her, this seemingly
Vulcan trait in a terran. But now he wonders if it had been the right decision.
It is, as they say, impossible to build a bridge if neither side wish to start
the work.
"Was there something you required?", she asks.
"I believed it necessary to inform you in person that I will be departing for
the Vulcan colony within a week."
Nyota stares at him with surprise on her face for a moment before speaking in a
strangely rough voice.
"You are leaving." It was not a question.
"Temporarily. Since there is time before we are assigned our next mission, I
have decided to take the opportunity to visit my father."
"And you are informing me now?", she lets out a disbelieving laugh.
"I have just decided. I have not had the opportunity to inform anyone else"
"The Captain doesn't know?"
"No."
Nyota stares at him for a moment, as if unsure of his sincerity and then says:
"Alright."
Spock nods his assent and is about to raise his hand in farewell when she
continues.
"I want to meet you before you leave, Spock. We need to talk." Spock remembers
Jim's murmured comment, about two months into the mission, when one of their
crew members had been called away with the same words. 'Let me tell you one
thing Mr. Spock. No good comes out of a conversation that begins with that.'
Spock now wonders how much truth those words had held.
"I would be amiable to that."
Nyota nods once to herself and then raises her hand in the Vulcan traditional
farewell.
Spock returns it and watches as Nyota turns to the right and goes over to one
of the workers. He stares at her for a while, looks at the broken wall and then
at the rubble. He feels as if this was the end of something. It unsettles him
but he lets it go.
Turning around, he leaves the building.
*******************************************
He doesn't know what wakes him up but the room is quite except for the
occasional sounds made by the machines monitoring him. He feels disorientated
for a moment, unable to place himself. His skin feels clammy and he's pretty
sure his hands will shake if he unfists them from his sheet. There's a drop of
cold sweat rolling down his neck and there's a sour aftertaste at the back of
his throat, like he's swallowed a bolt of thunder or something, not that Jim's
ever done that. He knows this feeling intimately, has been familiar with it
since his teens but this one feels different. Like he's still trapped in the
nightmare with no way out.
The particularly loud beep from the monitor, indicating his increased
heartbeat, makes him jump and the monitor lets out another series of protesting
beeps. Jim tries to rein in his heart, concentrates on his breathing: in and
out, in and out and the noise drops down. He waits with abated breath for
someone to come to check on him but the corridor outside his room remains
blissfully devoid of any footsteps. Finally, he is sure enough to breathe
again.
"So they managed to save you."
Jim flinches and backs away against his pillows. It’s not much but he'll take
whatever he's offered. Khan stands near the half drawn blinds of his room, his
face as pale as before, almost glowing in the street lights, a sharp contrast
to his black hair.
"What-"
The smile comes sharp and bright, more of a baring of teeth than anything else.
Just like a predator on a hunt.
"Not expecting me were you, Captain?"
"You're . . . how? You're supposed to. . ." Jim wildly looks around the room
but there's nothing he can use to defend himself.
"What? Frozen back in?", Khan sneers.
"Bones did it himself. He wouldn't make mistakes."
"Ah yes!", the sneer turns up a notch. "The Enterprise crew can do no mistakes,
can they? Starfleet's best and the brightest, on a mission to save worlds."
Jim opens his mouth to . . . what he doesn't know. It turns out that it doesn't
matter because Khan is isn't finished yet.
"However in this case, you are right Captain. I am indeed asleep in a cryo tube
somewhere. So the question remains: why am I here? Most likely answer is that
you are envisioning me."
"You. ."
"Now you might be hallucinating because I am essentially within you, in your
very blood. Or is it because I strike a very familiar chord within you,
Captain?"
Jim would say no but something stops him.
"We are similar creatures, are we not?”, Khan takes a step forward. “Our crew
is everything to us. Without them, we are monsters. Perhaps we are monsters
even with them. We will kill for them, die for them."
"I am not like you!", Jim sneers back. "You're dead but I survived.Isurvived."
"But you couldn't have survived without help, could you? You dragged your crew
in danger and you failed to bring them out of it when it mattered Captain. You
couldn't even live long enough to protect what is important to you."
"You're wrong! I. . ."
"Jim!"
Bones is standing at the door, looking rumpled and harried.
Jim looks back at the corner but there's nothing except for shadows with thin
strips of street light falling on the floor. With a start, he realises that the
heart monitor is screeching at full volume indicating his elevated heartbeat.
The green 105 blinks on the screen in indicating his heart beat while the ECG
draws a whacky, jagged line across the screen just below it. He, himself is
backed away against the head of the bed, drenched in sweat and short of breath,
choking on air like he's had a spar with Spock.
"I . . . he . .", he tries to explain what just happened. But here's the twist.
How do you explain something that you don't understand yourself?
"Had a bad dream, huh?", Bones says, sagging against the door.
"Bones,. . .", Jim is still unable to form the words.
McCoy looks at him for a moment and something flits across his face, something
Jim doesn't clearly understand.
"Why don't you go back to sleep, kid? And I'll carry on with my work right
here."
Jim knows Bones was sleeping, can see it in the crease marks on his face and
the way his hair is flattened on the left but right at that moment he doesn't
point it out. He's not so masochistic that he wants to give dream-Khan a chance
to come back and if anyone can keep him at bay, Jim knows that man is Leonard
McCoy.
So Jim gingerly climbs down from his perch on his pillows and straightens his
twisted sheets. Bones stares at him for a moment and then goes to his office,
probably to fetch his pad. Jim reaches for the glass of water at his bedside
with hands that are NOT shaking. The water just splashes out a bit because of
some mild earthquake or something. He gulps down the water, all the while
keeping an eye on the corner. Well, to be fair, he just imagined a mass
murderer to be occupying it. But Bones comes back soon enough which relaxes Jim
a bit. In the typical manner of a clinical mother-hen, Bones fusses over him,
fluffs his pillows and arranges his sheets around him. And then jabs him with a
hypo.
"Ow! What the fuck Bones?"
"Shut up and go to sleep Kirk. I am not equipped to deal with you at shit-
o'clock in the morning."
Jim goes to sleep and if he dreams of cruel, black eyes and misaligned warp
cores, well, no one needs to know about it.
Chapter End Notes
     If you've found any mistakes, ya know what to do. Until next time!
End Notes
     I havs tried to ensure that there aren't any grammatical errors or
     spelling mistakes but you never know. You are welcome to leave any
     comments. Constructive criticisms are always appreciated. If there
     were any factual mistakes, feel free to inform me.
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