No one could tell you exactly when it happened.

The federation was corrupted. Turned from their ways and now bent on galaxy-wide domination—or mass genocide. Only a few remained loyal to the "old ways." They hid among the stars, never landing, never staying, praying that the others hadn't been taken.

The Enterprise was one of these ships. The crew had attempted mutiny four times now. Those who were tired of running, those who sided with the new federation, they were given up. Dropped somewhere the federation would find them; Kirk could never bring himself to kill them. They had been family once. Once upon a time, when things were simpler; when all there was to space was mystery and exploration. Now they were fugitives. War criminals actually—traitors for firing on "one of their own."

Jim was at his wit's end. Honestly, everybody was. There's nowhere to hide in space. Not when there are entire legions looking for one ship—which is falling apart at the seams. They can't stop to repair it, not when there are no friendly faces for eons in every direction. It seems as if the fuel is always low. They've been on half-rations for longer than anyone cares to count.

But they can't be found. Jim couldn't do that to his crew. Not to the people he cared about most. They put their total and absolute faith in him, and he's dragged them through hell. He keeps arguing that they're fighting back, trying to signal to the others that are surely out there that the flagship is still alive and still fighting. But with every day that passes, they lose a little. They aren't winning this fight, they can only go down as martyrs and hope someone carries on the legacy.

So he had to keep fighting. Fighting for them. For his friends. For his family. For the whole of the galaxy if he had to. He would go down in flames if it meant they were safe. Of course they knew this. It seemed that Spock and Bones were never far from his side—silently reassuring him, simply being there. He couldn't count the number of times he'd fallen asleep crying into Spock's shoulder while his friend held him, quietly whispering comforting words that they both knew were not quite true.

.

.

.

(A/N) revision to a "songfic" based on Sing by My Chemical Romance. I may or may not expand it, depends on how I feel. y'all lovely people have a nice day. :)