A few days after James Tiberius Kirk miraculously rejoined the living, I was standing in his room, typing up a report when he interrupted my thoughts. "What?" I murmured, my stylus still busily tapping on the PADD, while I waited for him to repeat his question.

"Leonard," he said, and I snapped to attention. In the four years I'd known Jim, he had never once called me by my first name. I gasped as I took in the look on his face. It was sadness and anger, self-loathing and guilt. It was the face of a broken man. I set my PADD down and pulled a chair up to his bedside.

"Jim, what's wrong?"

"Why me," he demanded, as if I hadn't spoken. I shook my head uncomprehendingly. "Why did you save me?"

"What are you talking about?" I reached for his hand, which he pulled away.

"137 men and women lost their lives. Why save me instead of them?" His voice shook and his eyes welled up with tears that he was too proud to let fall, even in front of me.

"Jim-"

"Crewman Jack Davis, First Class. On the mission because he served under Christopher Pike and wanted to see him avenged. 35 years old, with two children and another on the way."

"Oh, Jim," I sighed. That's why he demanded that I give him his PADD. He was reading up on all the deceased crew members, memorizing every detail of the people lost during the attack of the USS Vengeance.

"Ensign Clara Swartzkopff, twenty two and fresh out of the Academy."

"The same age you were when the Enterprise took on Nero," I pointed out.

"I survived. She didn't. I was her first Captain and her only Captain," he continued. I knew that he could go on, could and would list the names of every lost crewmember, unless I stopped him.

"We didn't even know if it would work on you," I offered up.

"But why me first? Why not one of them," he pressed.

"You're the Captain," I shrugged.

"It doesn't matter."

"Kid-"

"No," he interrupted, his voice quiet but angry. "I'm not a kid. But she was. And he had kids, two who lost their father, and one who will never even get to meet him. It was my job to bring them home, and I couldn't do it." A tear fell and he brushed it away roughly. "I failed. And I thought that maybe, maybe, I could die for them. I could do that, go down with my crew. But you took that away from me, you, you bastard," he sneered as venomously as he could, before putting his face in his hands and dissolving into tears. I sat silently, waiting for him to compose himself, knowing that any attempts at comfort would anger him rather than help.

Eventually, he took a rattling breath and rubbed his eyes, before looking up at me again. "You want to know why I'm a bastard?" He laughed bitterly. I waited. "The last thought I had before dying was about me. I wasn't thinking of them, that I did it to save them. To keep any more of them from dying, at least. I was just angry that I would have to die, and scared. I couldn't even make my last thought about them. Couldn't even pay my respects in such a simple way. Because Pike was right: I'm not ready for the chair. I never will be."

I waited, making sure he was done. He searched my face for something. Pity? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "Listen to me, kid. I can't say whose life objectively means more – yours or one of theirs – but I can tell you this: your life means a Hell of a lot more to me than anyone else's on this ship, mine included." My voice was shaking with anger; did he really not see how much he meant to me, to all of us? "You're the only reason I stay on this goddamned ship!"

"Bones." His voice was quieter, gentler.

"No. Now you didn't see it, but I saw what losing their Captain did to these people. Scotty was in tears. Uhura was devastated. And I wasn't even sure that hobgoblin could feel until you died. He was crying, Jim. Spock was crying! And I'm damn sure he'd have killed Khan if Uhura had beamed down to stop him. You may think you don't matter, but the crew sure as Hell disagrees."

"They died, Bones. And it was my fault," he breathed.

"No, it wasn't. You're a damn good Captain, Jim. You gave your life for your crew, and yeah, you lost some, but you saved a Hell of a lot more. And the fact that you care this much means that you are ready for the chair. The Enterprise needs her Captain, and I need my best friend. So you better get your ass off the pity pot, kid, because we need you." I breathed heavily as I finished my speech and waited for Jim to say something else that made me want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until I got my message through his thick skull.

"Well then," he smiled, giving off just a little hint of his signature smirk. "You had better tell Mr. Sulu to get his ass out of my chair."

I gave his shoulder a squeeze and stood up. "Captain on the Bridge."