I was screaming. And I didn't care if my throat hurt. I needed to. I needed to let it all out. I wasn't fast enough. The Captain was dead because my legs had given out. I watched him die in front of me, and as I ran after Khan the pain was too much. And I blacked out.
As I woke up, they told me the news. I was only in a paper hospital gown, lying in one of their beds. They had told me that Jim had passed away. Khan had gotten away. That it wasn't my fault.
No matter how much they said it wasn't my fault. I kept thinking it was. He risked his life for the ship, for everyone, even me. The green-blooded, black haired Vulcan. The one that told him he was wrong. And I regretted it all.
I regretted every time I hurt him. Smacked, hit, punched, kicked, choked. I regretted every time I told him he couldn't do it. That he was wrong. That his dicisions would get us killed. Get HIM killed. I regretted every single second I loved him and I didn't tell him.
Bones told me I had been staring at the same glass wall for weeks. Months even. I had lost track of the exact time, which I hadn't ever done in.. Well.. As long as I was alive. I had to sit here and stare at the glass wall. Because beyond it is the place he passed away. That I had to sit here and watch his heart stop beating. That I whispered T'hy'la and screamed that dreaded name. Khan.
We didn't bury him yet. I sat next to hime very day, whispering for him to wake up. I'm begging everyone to try to get the blood that runs through Khan's veins. To wake Kirk up. They keep telling me he's dead, that he deserves a burial, that I should move on.
I don't want to move on.
I want to wake up with him in the morning. Bond with him. Sift through every inch of his brain. Listen to him laugh when my hair is messed up. Run my fingers through his blonde hair just to listen to him purr. Give him every bit of my love.
Is that too much to ask?
I was supposed to be Captain. But I can't stand to sit in the chair that is his. I had watched him carve his name into the botton of it. He had even added my name to it. I didn't want it. It's his, not mine.
I spoke to Grampa Spock, as Jim would call him. He is telling me of his travels. I had begged him for hours to get one story of Jim. He told me everything about Jim. And I listened to him.
Every night I think of Jim. I think of plans to grab Khan, to wake him up. Someday, I will.