A/N: Umm...just something that came to me. My very first ST story so please be kind!! Hints at BonesKirk but can be read as a friendship fic. Please review!
Light Years
Leonard has always thought he knows James Tiberius Kirk. His rhyme and reasons. The things that make him tick. He's heard of his friend's teenage exploit, the good and the bad and the horrible. He's witnessed the style of his manner, the tiny telling details in the way he eats and sleeps and smiles and fights.
He knows about the birthdays spent by the campus in memory of the Kelvin and by Jim at the bottom of a bottle, clawing his way inside where the world is more foggy.
He knows reason Jim's here at all, rather than on passed out in some bar or asleep in some stranger's house. He's knows that Jim is now Captain for no reason noble or decent, but because of a dare -Do better. That while he's earned the right to be judged far beyond this, the fact remains. If Uhura hadn't been hot and Cupcake a bastard; if Pike hadn't been there to recognize a dead man's face across twenty years and been almost cruel.
If Jim hadn't had some server Daddy issues…
Well the earth wouldn't be here at all.
And Bones knows this, knows it so well that sometimes he wakes up almost breathless with the fear of it. Bones knows this and all those other things. Bones thinks he knows everything.
It's November, two months since the enterprise finally limped it's way back to earth. They'd arrived to a media frenzy and Bones is still amazed, all these weeks later, the effects it's having on them. Especially Kirk, the reporter's wet dream; young and beautiful and captain and the son of another planet hero. Jim's only been able to leave the academy without a disguise since Thursday.
It's Tuesday now, cloudy. The echo of a chill in the San Francisco air. Jim walks beside him, light on his feet. The delight to be outside encompassing him in an almost visible glow and Bones can see the place in Jim that needed this.
They travel slow, no destination planed. In this space they are spontaneous, relaxed. Bones has always been secretly enthralled with Jim when he is like this. When all the fury and momentum seems to be drained out of him for a time and he is so unbelievably soft.
When Bones can see the contentment that is normally so evasive for his friend. When it is clear: there is no place for Jim but here.
Bones is not sure when, exactly, the man arrives. The walkways are crowed, busy and he is just another moving breathing body. Bones may have seen a minute or five before and never even noticed or remembered.
But suddenly he is right in front of them, a barrier to the non-complicated world and Bones stumbles to a halt.
The man is tall, not as tall as Leonard but taller than Jim, more muscular. He is well dressed, face shaven and completion fair. Almost feminine with his strawberry blond hair and thick lashes that frame big eyes. These are focused to the right of Bones, on Jim, a green grey storm of-
Bones is caught for a moment because there is something in that face. Something almost painfully familiar but bones can't place it. Is distracted by Jim, frozen and stiff-shouldered and so far from that previous easiness that Bones can hardly believe it was ever there. Jim tilts closer to Bones and the man breaths out in a rush.
"Jimmy."
There is a hushed minute, filled with incomprehensible things. Of a history, that reaches back, beyond even Leonard 'Bones' McCoy who has known Jim longer than anyone. And there is…a flicker to the man's pupil, a pinch to Jim's mouth that Bones doesn't understand. Realizes that perhaps he isn't meant to, is merely an uninvited witness to this; Something Bones has never been around all-inclusive Jim before.
"Sam." Jim greets back at last, his voice touched with a frighteningly blank tone.
The man, Sam, shifts on his feet breaking the stillness so abruptly that it is almost violent. His breath comes: short, sharp. His hand twitches at his side as though he's about to snatch at Jim.
His voice, when he speaks though is soft, slightly astonished.
"Jimmy….It's been so long."
"Fourteen years." Jim replies, and Bones is surprised by the hardness there. So direct and sudden after the whispers and silence. Sam reels back as though Jim has slapped him and Bones wonders if perhaps, in this fragile dance of small ticks and encrypted words, Jim hasn't done just that.
Sam swallows, face pale, a slight tremble to his fingers as he wipes his pant legs.
"I went back." He says next, weakly like a naught child would justify itself. Bones remembers this tremor in Joanna's voice from so long ago when she broke the cookie jar.
Sam clears his throat, continues. "I…about two years ago. To try and find you and…but you'd gone."
Jim's chin juts out, and Bones sees the almost unperceivable twitch of his jaw. "I think I waited long enough, Sam." He answers as he did before. Harsh. Unforgiving.
"Yes." Sam whispers, gaze twisted off.
Bones thinks they may have forgotten he is here at all. He is half annoyed, half grateful not to be used as an emotional barrier. This is not a Jim he knows. This Jim is too subtle. It is like almost like watching Spock and his people only it is nothing like that at all. Bones doesn't understand and he hates it. Hates this man for turning his Jim into a stranger.
Sam flounders, a slight flush gracing his sculpted cheeks, whether from embarrassment or shame Leonard dose not know, though he would guess the latter. His mouth opens, shuts, and at last he stutters out.
"I saw you on the News. Star Fleet Jim? I was…I never...You…" He looks away, swallows again. "I was surprised." He finishes.
Jim shrugs, a strange parody of indifference."The opportunity came up. I took it. Wasn't a lot to stick around for. In Riverside."
"No." Sam agrees voice like shattering glass. "I don't suppose there was."
Jim doesn't say anything, doesn't expand his contribution or attempt to ease the situation. He is tight at Bones' shoulder, knitted into so many knots.
There is a stillness then. In the midst of the busy street, the three of them jostled on all sides, there is a stillness. Immovability.
Sam slumps, bodily and momentous, as though some inner foundation has collapsed. Bones can see failure there, though he has never meet the man before. Can taste it in the air as clearly as Jim's turmoil.
"I should…" Sam lingers, as uncomfortable under the gaze of this Jim as Bones is. His feet shuffle. Hands clench, unclench and he releases. "I should go. You don't…It wasn't right of me to come."
He straightens, moves past Bones, a swell of helplessness. Leonard can practically feel his thoughts vibrate, clash and echo away, a mile a minute.
"Sam." Jim's voice rings unexpected and they both turn towards him. There is the strangest shift to his eyes, stranger than silence and rage and sorrow. He nods to Sam.
"Don't let it be fourteen years this time. Before I next see you."
Bones gasps almost audible at the turnaround. The way Jim has, as always, left this to the last possible moment. Yet he knows also that this, whatever it is he is witnessing, is not a decision made lightly. There is too much violence still, evening this concession. Retribution and forgiveness delivered in a single devastating blow.
He doesn't know how he expects Sam to reply, but not the way he does. A small nod, solemn, before he moves off. The crowd closes in behind him, covering his footfalls.
Jim turns back to Bones smiling as he had been before; Light. Easy. For a moment, Bones wonders if the last few minutes had even occurred at all. He wonders if maybe this is what Jim wants him to think.
"So." Jim asks. "Where should we go?"
Bones almost replies in kind; let Jim have his secrets, terrible as they seem.
But he doesn't, can't just let this go.
"Jim, who was that?"
Jim's mouth quirks and he glances back in the direction Sam had gone. The look is fleeting- incomprehensible- and his voice remains unconcerned.
"That, Bones, was my brother. Now…wanna go to a holo?"
He walks on and after a moment Bones feet wake up and he jogs a few steps to catch up.
He's always thought he's known everything there is to know about Jim Kirk, all his rhyme and reasons. The things that make him tick.
Bones shakes his head and wonders, if really, he knows anything at all.
fin
So what did you think? was it any good? should I write more? I've got this idea about Tarsus...