Author's Notes

Star Trek is owned by Paramount and was created by Gene Roddenberry. Lyrics from "Hangover Song" belong to Say Anything. In no way, shape, or form do I own anything nor do I make any profit. This chapter has been edited for: minor grammar and spelling mistakes, chapter title, flow, and structure.

Chapter One: Two Years

. . .

"I mean nothing, only nothing. There's nothing I can do about that. I've accepted my place in the back. This is not the place or time to snap..."

. . .

The smell of bacon came to him.

His eyes fluttered open. The smell was accompanied by a loud sizzling. Jim looked to his left. He could see the back of some woman wearing a white t-shirt. It was several sizes too big and hung off her body like a sheet. He tried to remember where he was or what had even happened the previous night, but it was all a blur. He sat up and his head began to spin. Jim groaned and leaned forward, resting his hands against his head.

The girl must of heard him because suddenly her hand was on his shoulder. An overwhelming smell of spiced pork filled his nose. "Tommy? Are you okay?" Jim was going to be sick. "B-bathroom?" He asked weakly, desperately holding back the vomit in the back of his throat. "Uh, just down the hall..." He stood and stumbled down the hall.

Fortunately, the door was open. Unfortunately, he missed most of his target.

Jim felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow as he hit his head against the wall lightly. He had screwed up big time. He had no clue where he was and had trashed some poor girls bathroom with his stomach contents. Which consisted mostly of liquid and... nachos? He wasn't exactly sure. After moment of self pity, he got up and viciously rinsed his mouth. He then cleaned up the mess he made with a rag he found in one of the drawers.

It had been two years. Two years since Mr. Spock had pulled James T. Kirk aside after a mission and told him he was leaving the USS Enterprise. "I would say temporarily, but I am unsure of the length of my absence. It is possible I will not return."

His reasoning had been vague. So vague, that Jim could barely remember why he was being abandoned by his First Officer in Command. He did remember demanding an explanation. Shouting and cursing. He might of begged, not that he would admit it. But it made no difference. The half Vulcan only shook his head and lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry, Captain." Jim had desperately wanted to say, 'But I need you.' Yet his throat constricted and he hit the wall with his fist. Face flushed.

"Then get off my ship."

Looking back, he had regretted for being so dramatic. Jim had acted childish about the whole situation. He didn't even seen Spock off when they dropped him at the closest star base. Just hid in his room, his jaw clenched tight as he tired to distract himself.

He had always been bit of a drinker when things went wrong. Something he learned from his Uncle. A night later, he drank until his vision went black. If McCoy had not found him sprawled out half way in his room, half out, it might of ended worse than a stiff hangover.

"You're lucky nobody else found you, Jim. All kinds of weird rumors would start up about you and that green-blooded hobgoblin! What were you thinking?!" Bones had scolded as he pressed a hypo into the Captains neck. He cringed and glowered at the floor. Maybe that I-

He should have learned then. But every chance he got, he tilted back the bottle, washing the liquid over his tongue. It may have started cold in his mouth, but it turned to fire on its way down to his belly. It was burn that eased the twisting of his stomach. A sloppy grin would plaster itself on his face. Everything would feel better. Numb.

Numb enough to get into bed with any girl that would take him. Which, with his stunning good looks, wasn't hard. He couldn't remember if any of them were particularly attractive. It didn't really matter to him. At three am, he was out the door. Never looking back.

He propositioned Lieutenant Uhura a year after Spock's departure. "Nyottttaaaa." The influence of the alcohol had made his vision blurry and his legs a little wobbly. She slapped him hard, sent him stumbling to the ground. A red hand print swelled up on his face instantly. No dignity left, he just laughed. Laughed so hard until tears spilled down his cheeks.

It had been and embarrassing scene.

Again, McCoy came to his rescue. Another hypo to the neck. Another lecture. "Honestly, Jim. Pull yourself together. This reckless behavior is getting old. What exactly is your deal anyways? What happens when I'm not there to save your country boy ass?" The next day, he made a formal apologize to Uhura, who accepted it, but never forgot.

And the spiral only went farther down until he woke up that day, two years later, head spinning, unable to remember the night before.

He had just tossed the rag in the trash when she appeared behind. He peeked at her reflection. A cute brunette with a beauty mark under her left eye. Slowly, he turned to face her. She had his clothes in one hand, shoes in the other. A soft smile formed on her face. "Been there before!" She tried to joke. He forced a smile and grabbed his things from her hands. "Sorry, you didn't happen to-" She grimaced and looked away, embarrassed. He would of respond, but she took that moment to leave.

Closing the door, he quickly dressed himself. His head was still spinning slightly, but the nausea was almost gone. He grabbed her trash and tied it off. When he slipped out of the bathroom, he could hear her talking in the kitchen. It didn't' seem to be directed at him. He took that moment to quietly slip out of her apartment. Unnoticed.

After a long search for a dumpster, he finally found one a few streets over, down an alley. Tossing the bag over the top, he paused until he heard the small back crash against the bottom of the dumpster. A faint twang. It hit him hard, pinning his feet in place. He couldn't believe he had just spent the night and then vomited all over a woman's floor. And why had she called him Tommy? What kind of name was that?

. . . .

"Where in God's name have you been!?" Bones snapped, trailing after Jim. He had managed to find his way back to the ship (how, he didn't know). They were docked to replenish their supplies for a few more days before heading off to their next mission. "Around. Did I miss something?" he asked, stopping to sign a PADD that a young officer in red held out to him. "No, but I was worried sick when you missed your physical this morning AND didn't answer your communicator." Jim paused, remembering the girl with the beauty mark. "I was just out. I forgot my communicator in my room."

Bones rolled his eyes. "Out my ass. You were chasin' tail like a hound on a hunt!" Jim glanced at his Chief Medical Doctor. "This destructive behavior has got to stop. I'm done lecturing you!" Kirk walked away, knowing the doctor would follow. He saw a flash of McCoy's medical tricorder out of the corner of his eye. "That's what you said last time," he replied. Another officer stopped him. "I'm done, Jim. Don't push me!"

Suddenly, the Captain felt a sharp sting in his neck. He cursed and turned to Bones. "Would you leave me alone!" Bones made some notes on his PADD. "Not until you come in for a physical. I won't ask you again. If you don't show up at 900 hours tomorrow, I will hunt you down, sedate you, and drag you to the sick bay myself!" With that, he walked away in a huff.

It was the usual routine. He filled out paper work and wander around the ship, making sure everything was going well, and signed off on whatever work needed conformation. He was on the bridge when Uhura rushed up to him. "Captain," she huffed. "Lieutenant?" He asked. A smile threaten to take over her lips. "Did you get my message?" He shook his head and pulled up his messages.

It took everything to not drop is PADD.

"When the position opened up, he requested to join us again." There was a flutter in her voice. An excitement in her brown eyes. "When the position opened...?" Uhura stared at him, her eyebrows dropping into sharp slops. "Commander Hudson asked to transfer due to a death in his family. Two weeks ago." Jim made an "Ah!" face. He then glanced out at his PADD again. That all too familiar face peered back up at him. How could he forget those pointy ears and black bowl cut?

"Spock wants to return to the USS Enterprise."