He knew pain. He had known pain since the day he was born. Pain, suffering, it didn't work on him that much anymore. Not now. Not after years of feeling it. Not after getting numb to it.
"He should have never died! Get away from me James! You're just like him!" his mother yelled, but he didn't understand. His wide blue eyes, filled up with tears, stared at her as if she was his star and he had just turned her off.
"B-but… Mama…"
"Get away from me!" she yelled again, and a book came to his direction. He wasn't fast enough to move away. The book hit him on the head and he fell, a small cut on his forehead. It burned. He rubbed his head, a sob coming out of his small mouth, fat tears falling from his eyes. "Away, I said!"
"Mother, why are yo – Christ!" he heard Sammy say, but his vision was too blurry. He couldn't make out who was there. Then, warm hands pulled him up to his feet and against some warm, comfy surface. "It's okay Tib. It's okay. Come on. I'll take you to bed" Sammy whispered, and then he was being carried away from his mum.
He didn't like when she was hurting. But he had Sammy. Sammy understood. Sammy took care of him.
The bleeding on his forehead didn't seem to be coming to an end very soon. He could feel the drops going down his face, making the way they passed a little bit colder than the rest of his head. His arms, tied up over his head, didn't make him feel as uncomfortable as it should. Maybe he was starting to learn how to ignore it. Or perhaps the constant slapping of a stick to his back didn't really let him focus on anything else. But he didn't care. He knew they wouldn't get anything from him. Not if they continued like that.
Frank was a nice guy, in the beginning, and after he came around in their lives, he seemed to be making his mother a better person. She didn't get so upset all the time, she didn't cry for any reason, she stopped hitting him with books or with her hands. She was a nice mum. Even Sammy seemed to agree.
But then she got too well, and started working again. Frank didn't like work. He had a farm and a car and it was enough for him. He liked the simple life. She didn't. So she started to work, so she could buy new things, take care of the family, make sure they always had medicine and food. And while she was out there doing her best, Frank was getting worst and worst.
He usually came home drunk, angry, upset. When he didn't see Winona around, only her two kids, he got angrier. He wanted her there. He wanted to have his own kids with her. He wanted to make a family, and not take care of the one that was left. And he understood. He really did. But Sam didn't. And as they got older, Sam and Frank started to discuss. Argue. Fight. And it wasn't pretty.
"Mama told us not to fight! We are a family!" he tried, one day, and while Sam seemed to hesitate for a second, Frank growled at him and threw the lamp on his direction. This time, he was bigger. He moved away before getting hurt. Sam got mad with rage.
"Who do you think you are to treat my brother like that?!" he had yelled, jumping on Frank's neck. He hid away, watching his stepfather and his brother fight like maniacs. The two were getting bruised, cut, hurt, but neither stopped.
He didn't like seeing his brother hurt.
The tortures continued for a long time, longer than he had expected. He thought they would be smarter and realize that he was not going to give away anything they wanted. Nothing at all. He wouldn't say a single word, even if they killed him. He was Captain James Tiberius Kirk. He wasn't just some cadet.
And then they stopped. And obviously that he knew they wouldn't just give up. They would try something else. A bribe, a threat, something that he would be able to avoid later on. Or so he thought.
He just wasn't expecting them.
After Sam had left, things got a little complicated for him, and his mother thought it would be for the best that he stayed away for a while. So, she found a program linked to the Star Fleet Academy where children of all ages would go in a space travel to Tarsus V, where they would live and learn how to be responsible and deal with their own lives.
He liked the idea. He really did. He had never left the farm where they lived, had one or two friends, and had a basically miserable life. If he went to Tarsus V, he would get rid of Frank and learn how to take care of himself, all while making new friends. It was like paradise. He couldn't wait.
He went away and had a great time. He made a friend in the way, an alien called Hr'staty, who explained him how her planet had two Suns and how it worked on real life. He thought her how to drive a car and about classical earth music. The two had a lot of fun during the trip and later on as well.
She was the first from the thousands he saw dying on Tarsus V.
She gave him time to run and he ran, ran for his life. He hid, he jumped, he fought, he did everything. She died to save him, and he couldn't stop feeling bad. It had been her choice, but every time he thought about her, his chest hurt in an unexplainable way. He just wanted to die in her place. She was wonderful and didn't deserve it.
He knew pain, he knew suffering. But he didn't know how to deal with it when the pain wasn't on him. He didn't know how to help.
That was his weakness.
He wasn't expecting them to be there.
He had been precise. Wait for his orders; do not beam down until further contact. But they never did what he asked, and they called him stubborn.
Spock and Bones were being held captive just like he was: shirtless, pants ripped, hair messy, hands tied over their heads – being held there by an unknown force –, faces bruised, cut and hurt.
His chest tied up just like it had when he was little.
"Let them go" he heard his voice plead, and it was almost comical, how weak it sounded. He was tired, he felt like his knees could give out any moment, his body trembled, his back burned. He simply didn't have the energy to fight back. But now he had to. His friends were in front of the open fire.
His mouth opened at the first movement.
The Enterprise was falling.
He was dizzy, he was hurt, but he was alive. And as an alive captain, he had only one duty: save his ship.
Spock had the comm. Bones was taking care of the survivors. The ship was being destroyed, ripped apart, broken in two, but she would survive, and so would they.
So he ran as fast as he could, and did something no man would do. He saved her, he saved them, by killing himself on the progress. And it was painful, and it hurt, and all his organs seemed to be burning, but everyone was safe, and he wouldn't have to freak out again for losing someone.
And years later, she was gone again, this time for good. She was ripped apart, destroyed, cut in four pieces, and she had fallen from the sky just like a huge Frisbee, and this time he couldn't save her. This time, he didn't know if the others were alive. If they had followed his instructions. And he could only hope and pray as he watched the Enterprise fall from the sky and destroy everything on her path.
And then he promised to himself that he would never, ever lose anyone again. Nor his ship or his crew.
He only had to find them.
"I'll tell you! I'll tell you what you want to know!"
"Damn it, Jim" Bones growled, not seeming very fond of his best friend's choice. The aliens turned to him, smirking in a way that would leave most humans terrorized. Not James Kirk. He had seen worst.
He knew that the plans were hidden for a reason. He knew that if Star Fleet knew he had put his CMO and First Officer's lives before the plans, he would probably be transferred. But those were the two people he loved more in the universe, and he couldn't simply let them get hurt because of some stupid mining project.
"I'll tell you the coordinates of the planet. Just please, let them go" he said, voice raspy, but the aliens only laughed.
"We… Will release you… When we arrive" the chief of the group said, laughing loudly. His voice was dark, intense, low. With a nod of his head, two of his guards approached Jim, while two others stayed very close of Spock and Bones. "Now… Say it…"
"Solar System 387-Alpha, two hundred light years from our current position, third planet of the system, Earth colony" he said, almost spitting out the words with disgust. "Happy?"
"Yes… You two, make sure we are not being followed by their ship. The rest, keep your eyes on them" the chief said in their language before walking off. Three guards stayed inside while two left, taking the tricorder with them. As soon as they were alone, Jim winked to Bones who quickly got the message.
"Oh my sweet lord, can't I even have a glass of water in this place! I've seen better prisions!" Bones complained loudly, and continued complaining until one of the guards got done with it and walked to them. The other two followed, curious to see what their friend would do.
"Shut your mouth, idiotic creature. Your begs and complains will n-" the alien groaned and the other two turned to him. Spock had used the known force that lifted their hands to jump on the air and kick the guard away. With the distraction, Jim and Bones did the same with the other two, kicking them until they were unconscious while Spock tried to remove the ropes. Once he did, he started to remove Bones' and then Jim's, this last one almost falling on the ground when he was released.
"We need to get the tricorders" he breathed out, being supported by both Spock and Bones by his arms. The three walked to the door, Spock always looking to see if anyone was around. After walking a bit through the empty ship, they found a room where the two other guards were trying to establish communication. Jim stayed behind as Spock and Bones did the hard work, and soon the three of them were being transported back to the Enterprise.
"Jim, you were completely out of your mind!" Bones said, checking him with his instruments as soon as they arrived. Jim however just pulled him and Spock to a weak hug and sighed.
"I love you two. Next time, listen to my command" he said, and then gave them a stern look. The two looked between themselves and Jim before Bones let out a loud chuckle and Spock just smirked slightly.
Jim would never lose them both. No matter how much pain he would have to suffer for it.