The night that changes Jim Kirk's life begins like one of his typical nights out. He arrives at the bar alone and, with a skill that comes from extensive experience, downs more drinks than he can count. He loves the way alcohol pulls him into the moment, drowning out the past and future; neither of which hold anything but sorrow. He doesn't deny that he drinks for all the wrong reasons, and far too much. He just doesn't care. Nobody else is there to care for him.
It's after he's started to feel slightly dizzy that Kirk spots a pretty cadet, ordering her first drinks. She has sleek black hair and looks incredibly sexy. So he puts on his charming smile, and goes over to order her a drink. Kirk has had plenty of practice at picking up girls. He doesn't really do relationships, but he does do sex. A lot. Mostly one night stands, with the occasional fling thrown in (usually at the same time as more one night stands, if he's honest). Monogamy is one of the few words he doesn't know the meaning of.
Kirk is not put off when Uhura won't even tell him her first name. He likes a challenge. He carries on flirting until some burly, not so attractive cadets come over. That's when he realises the evening will not be going down the sex path. But he isn't that upset. Because he spends alternative nights out taking part in another of his favourite pastimes; bar fights.
Jim Kirk likes bar fights. In fact, he knows how to start them in multiple languages. Sure, he usually takes on more than he could possibly deal with, and gets the shit beaten out of him, but he likes to think he does some damage to the other guys. The great thing about bar fights is that you can hit back. Hitting back is the one of the best feelings in the world. It's a violent outlet. Kirk has a lot of anger inside. It's something he hides well beneath an exterior of goofy humour.
Kirk's not an idiot; he's smart enough to realise how royally screwed up he is. He knows his lack of ability to form proper relationships or commit to anything is due to physiological issues. He's read enough books to classify himself as having an attachment disorder, with abandonment issues mixed in. He understands the violence he constantly takes part in is a by-product of his heavily violent past. He practically screams dysfunctional childhood. But he doesn't care about the inevitable self-destructive behaviour that he's spiralled into.
The cadets are bigger than him. Significantly. Plus there are four of them. The odds don't look great. But he tries to be optimistic. He's never liked odds anyway; they're always against him. So he riles them up. It's pretty easy, especially since being irritating is a talent he's held for a long time. He perfected it when he was being interrogated, back on Tarsus – he found that it was easier to deal with the pain if he was ruining someone else's day. Being annoying was the only method of control he had as a captive, and he had a fair few weeks to develop it as a skill. He never did rat out the location of the rest of his kids, so he knows it works pretty damn well. His 'talent' can be useful, but also painful – in this case he knows it will be both. So he smirks, and calls the biggest and ugliest cadet cupcake. They still need a bit more pushing, but an insulting comment later and a gentle tap on 'Cupcake's' cheek more than meets requirements.
The fist in his face feels sickeningly good. Because when he's punching, being punched, or screwing someone, the numbness is driven back. The heat of the moment makes him feel alive, reminds him that he can feel; something he thought he had lost after Tarsus. Whacking the guy back feels even better. It's like he's back in the cell, but he finally gets to strike back at Kodos and his guards with more than words. For a second he admires his handiwork, before the other cadets close in.
He's doing pretty well, barely registering any pain, until Uhura shoves him (with just cause, he has to admit) and he loses his focus. He's pinned against a table, and being punched repeatedly. Blood splatters over his top and face and he's momentarily pulled into the past. Frank is holding him up against a wall, breath stinking of alcohol, about to break his jaw. A guard is kicking his thin frame and he can't bring his hands up to protect his face because they're chained behind his back.
A piercing whistle pulls him out of his memories and back into the bar. His face is throbbing but he hardly notices as he tips his head back to find the source. A man, wearing a Starfleet uniform and reeking of authority, has stood up and demanded everyone gets out.
"You all right, son?" The word son is unfamiliar to Kirk. He wasn't a son to his father for more than a few seconds. He wasn't a son to his mother – although he can hardly blame her, who could look at the face of their dead husband every day? No wonder she spent so much time off planet. He certainly wasn't a son to Frank, who was only the father of several scars. But the alcohol stops him thinking in this much depth, and he simply states the truth.
"You can whistle really loud, you know that."
The man's name is Captain Pike. Jim has started to sober up for their conversation, which is something he regrets. At least at first. Because then it turns out that this man cares. He cares that Jim doesn't have a future, but needs one. He cares that Kirk is smart, but wasted. But when Pike suggests Jim enlists, Kirk smirks. Starfleet has only ever let him down. They robbed him of his father. They took away his mother's affection. They came too late when he was starving to death, trying to stop the rest of the kids he had somehow ended up responsible for from giving up.
But then Pike dares him to do better. And Jim can never resist a dare. Four years? He'll do it in three.
I was not sure about this... what did you think? Please leave a quick review, it will make me happy :D