Haha look who's risen from the depths of fandom hell to give y'all another Kircus fic! Giving everyone a heads up: this chapter isn't really any new material and frankly most of this fic will be recap of the previous, but from Carol's perspective. If I get inspired, however, I might post a couple of Kircus oneshots this next month, so keep an eye out!
She's not sure when she figures it out actually.
Carol can't quite pinpoint exactly where, but in between I'm Carol Marcus in the hallway—(blue confused eyes boring suspiciously into hers)—and Are you alright?—(blue eyes now gentle, worried, but also hard and furious)—she realizes that she's begun to have feelings for him.
But not romantically. Carol Marcus doesn't fall for guys like James Kirk—guys who are footloose and wild and have a reputation.
Okay, so maybe Carol knew all along that the James Kirk reputation was at least a little bit embellished. There was no way, considering he was in the top percent of all of his classes or looking over his aptitude scores, that he was the careless idiot that he made himself out to be.
And if she had been testing the rumors of his reputation in that shuttle, well…he didn't have to know that.
(She had been disappointed in him at that point, but honestly it wasn't as if he'd done anything that unforgivable. But someone should be giving him a hard time about these things.)
But she's almost positive that the moment she feels respect for her new Captain is that moment on the Vengeance—his full of worry and something akin to panic, but shining brightly in the dark.
And then everything happens so fast she doesn't have time to process it. She's lying on the ground, writhing in pain, her father is murdered before her very eyes, Kirk is begging Spock not to make the trade, and Khan attacks him and then…
She's back onboard the Enterprise.
They're falling, falling, falling and this is the end, it's surely the end she realizes as alarms go off and medical personal rush about in a panic, trying to accommodate the wounded and dying, this is how she's going to die, alone, completely alone in a dark sickbay under a false name because her father hadn't been good enough, hadn't loved her enough, hadn't tried hard enough to—
The Enterprise dips low and then steadies out. The lights come back on.
As everyone exhales in relief and a few cheer, Carol's eyes meet Dr. McCoy's.
Their eyes both hold the same dread.
They bring a body bag in.
It's not even the first one to be brought into sickbay—so many have died—but it's the first since the Enterprise paused in her terrifying decent towards earth.
She stops breathing as Dr. McCoy unzips the body bag and pulls it back to reveal—
Staring down at the face of the Enterprise's motionless Captain, the harsh reality finally sets in. James Kirk is dead.
She's unable to offer comforting words to the doctor she barely knows, as he brokenly collapses in a chair, looking as if his entire world has just been shattered—for all she knows it has—unable to form a word that can possibly lessen his pain.
Then through the deafening silence that haunts sickbay, a soft purr rouses him.
Dr. McCoy looks up.
He stares at the tribble.
Carol's heart skips a beat as something akin hope burns in his eyes.
"How much of Khan's blood is left?" she asks, as Dr. McCoy frantically shouts out orders to his staff.
He spares her a glance over his shoulder.
"None."
Carol's fingers fly expertly over the control panel on the cryotube, her mind only partly on her task. Her eyes follow the transparent cover as it slides over the face of the dead captain, glass freezing over almost instantly after.
"McCoy to bridge. I can't reach Spock from sickbay," Dr. McCoy says, distantly from the other side of sickbay. "Listen to me. Khan—I need Khan alive. You get that murderous sonuvabitch back on this ship right now." He takes a deep shuddering breath. "I think he can save Kirk."
Carol frowns, turning to look over her shoulder at the doctor. "What about bringing one of the other members of Khan's crew out of cryosleep? Even if they don't revive…properly…it's not their opinions we need." She feels a quick wave of guilt, but pushes it back. Kirk was more important.
Dr. McCoy glances down at the prone form of his best friend, lying motionless on the gurney. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if trying to steel himself. "Too risky," the doctor says, his voice gruff. "I don't know how much alike he and his crew are, and I don't have time to find out."
"But—"
"Look," Dr. McCoy interrupts. "If there's even the slightest unresolved difference between their respective physiologies, then we might be doing nothing but wasting our time and what little, if any, Jim has left. And I have to have Khan alive, because I don't know what death might do to his body…or the viability of its respective components." He shakes his head in dismay, grief stricken eyes locking with her own.
"It's Khan. Or nothing."
She's staring into the eyes of the man who brutally murdered her father just hours before.
Khan lies dazed, beaten six ways to hell, on a Biobed, with Commander Spock stiffly standing over him. It doesn't take a genius to figure what happened—Spock's knuckles are covered in blood and Uhura is resolutely avoiding his gaze—but Dr. McCoy barely spares them a glance as he takes another vial of blood from the augment.
"How long will this take?" she asks.
"I have to synthesis a new serum, compatible with Jim's body, before I can inject him," the doctor replies gruffly. "Even then, there's a good chance of him slipping away again from the radiation poisoning."
"Why not a full blood transfusion?" Carol suggests, biting her lip, thinking frantically. "If his body can handle the serum itself—"
"Kirk is dead?" a soft voice stops her. Khan's eyes lock on Dr. McCoy, who is frozen—face carefully blank. Spock has stiffened even more than Carol thought possible, eyes burning with cold hatred.
When no one answers, a soft smile plays on Khan's lips. "So we are alike, he and I."
"He's nothing like you! He saved the crew," McCoy almost snarls, feeling anger bubble up. "Crawled into a damn fully active warp core—"
"As a Captain should," Khan replies, calmly. His cold eyes fall on her. She suppresses a shiver at the calm fury in his eyes. "The Lieutenant is right. Only a full blood transfusion will save your captain."
"We have no idea what that will do to him, let alone if it will work—"
"I will help you synthesis a serum capable of restoring his cells," Khan replies. "And I will help you orchestrate a transfusion."
This gives everyone pause.
"Why?" McCoy asks finally.
Khan tilts his head to the side, observing the doctor for a moment. "I believe your captain would have bestowed the same curtesy to me."
"Why should that mean a thing to you?" Carol asks, genuinely curious.
Khan only smiles, serenely.
"All I can say is if the stupid bastard dies again, I'll kill him," Uhura mutters, sitting down next to Carol. The blonde had finally collapsed in exhaustion outside Kirk's room in Medical. She was loathe to go home to her empty apartment until McCoy gave any news on the Captain.
Glancing over at the rest of the Bridge Crew—sprawled exhaustedly across the hallway— she realizes she's not the only one.
"He'll be fine," she tells Uhura, with confidence she doesn't feel.
"He'd better be," the linguist replies, glaring at the floor. Carol gets the sense that Uhura isn't as angry as she's making herself out to be. In fact, she's worried about the Captain.
"This is Kirk we're talking about, right?" Sulu says, slightly shaky. "He'll pull through."
Uhura says nothing, continuing to glare a hole in the floor. Carol pretends not to see her hands shake.
"He's going to be fine," Christine says, stepping outside his room. Carol's confusion at her friend's appearance is overshadowed by a strong surge of relief.
"Can we see him?" Uhura asks, hopeful.
Christine shakes her head. "He's still at risk for infection. McCoy wants to keep him in a sterilized room until he's sure the serum won't backfire."
Uhura's eyes close as she nods. Carol, feeling sympathy for the woman she barely knows, places a hand on her shoulder.
"I know a great place for coffee."
"I don't actually hate him. I think," Uhura admits over her drink.
Carol watches her cautiously. She guessed correctly that the other woman just needed someone to talk to—someone who wasn't an emotionally constipated Vulcan.
"You think?" she questions, sipping her tea.
"It's complicated." Uhura lets out a sigh. "I just…I don't even know anymore. He's always been a jerk. A stubborn, brilliant, conceited, clever jerk with attitude problems."
"And yet you're worried about him." There's a question in her statement.
"I don't know anymore," Uhura admits softly. "I guess some part of me sees that most of his arrogance was an act. And it wasn't as if I honestly minded his flirting—I mean, it was mostly games for us." She paused, looking away. "I don't know when I started to respect him or think of him as a friend."
Carol looks out the window. "I know the feeling."
"You're here an awful lot," McCoy notes, as she pokes her head into the room.
"Everyone's here an awful lot," she replies, staring at Kirk's unconscious form. "How is he?"
"Better." McCoy sounds relieved. "His fever as gone down and his vitals have stabilized. We just have to wait for him to wake up." He hesitates for a moment. Then, "Thank you, Lieutenant. I don't think I'd have thought of a full transfusion until it was too late."
She nods. "Carol," she corrects. "And it was my pleasure, doctor."
"He's awake," McCoy says across a comm, two weeks later.
Carol feels all the air in her lungs leave in one big gust. "He's alright then?" she asks, casually.
"More than alright. Being a regular pain in my—Jim get back in bed before I make Spock sit on you!"
A week later and she receives a request from Kirk to serve on the Enterprise. She quickly accepts the position, before she can change her mind.
"I still can't believe he wants me on the Enterprise!" she says, dumbfounded.
Uhura—who is slowly turning into Nyota—looks at Carol over her drink and frowns. "You're a good officer."
"I faked my way onto the Enterprise."
"Well knowing Kirk, that's something he'd admire you for," Uhura replies, sarcastically.
"As he stopped staring at you like a lovesick fool yet?" Christine asks, absentmindedly, sipping her coffee.
Carol freezes. "What?"
Christine and Uhura stop. Uhura gives Christine an unimpressed face. "You just had to—"
"I thought she knew!"
"Knew what?" Carol demands, exasperated.
Both women exchange a look that makes Carol uncomfortable. "Well," Christine says, putting her drink down onto the table. "I couldn't help but notice," she says, which Carol translates into I definitely could've have helped but noticed, "while I was doing my rounds at Medical, that Kirk pays a great deal of attention to you. More than any other girl I've seen him interact with, actually."
Carol looks from Uhura to Christine. "You're kidding."
Uhura gives a longsuffering sigh. "Heaven help us if Kirk is in love."
"I need your help," Leonard says, across a comm, three days later. Carol has just gotten out of the last of her debriefings with the brass and is exhausted, but the doctor sounds so exasperated and exhausted himself, she can't turn him away.
"Better be worth my time," she tells him, just the same.
"Can you babysit?"
"Wasn't aware you had kids."
She hears a snort across the line. "I need you to keep an eye on Jim for a few hours."
Carol stops walking. "What?"
"He's driving me up the wall. I'd saddle him with Spock or Uhura, but I don't think he's up to interacting with either of them."
"And I'm a better choice because…?"
"You don't have personal history with him. I think he needs to talk to someone who doesn't…who can look at things from an unbiased perspective."
Carol pauses, giving it some thought. "I'll be there," she sighs, finally.
His apartment is far tidier than she expected. And…well…emptier. Kirk lives like a man ready to run at any given moment and although it's shouldn't be a surprise, given his supposed carefree attitude towards life, she still feels somewhat…well…surprised. The guy could at least have some keepsakes or holo photos hanging around.
Leonard lets her in, slipping out of the apartment with one worried glance towards the back of Kirk's head. He gives her a nod of thanks before the door slides closed.
"Need some company?" she asks, with more cheer than she feels, leaning against the doorframe.
Kirk lets out a very unmanly shriek and flails slightly as he tries to keep his balance on the couch. It's only then that Carol notices…well…
She really hopes he's wearing something under that blanket.
"Lieutenant Marcus," James Kirk says, formally, as if he's not visibly naked from the waist up. "You surprised me."
"Are you wearing anything under that?" she blurts out before she can stop herself and then clamps her mouth shut, trying not to die of embarrassment.
"Yes." Kirk blushes a soft red that goes all the way down to his chest. Her eyes unconsciously follow flush and…
She suddenly can understand why girls think he's such a catch. Or why a sensible girl like Christine Chapel could fall for a guy like Jim Kirk.
Her eyes snap back to his face. He's watching her and she waits for the smug innuendo that she expects he'll give any minute…
But it doesn't come.
"I'll go…put something on," he says at last.
Surprised, she feels a smile grow across her face. Again, Kirk has exceeded her expectations. "Don't let me stop you," she says, seriously, almost laughing at the look of mortification on his face.
Teasing Kirk was surprisingly fun.
"You were at Kirk's?" Christine demands over a comm.
Carol wonders how her life had somehow become a teenage drama. This was somehow Kirk's fault.
"Leonard asked me to keep an eye on him. Nothing happened Chris."
Christine gives a disbelieving snort. "How is he anyway?"
"Honestly? I think he's depressed."
"Damn it. I'll bet he's not talking to his therapist. How could you tell?"
"Well, he was sitting half naked hugging a bowl of popcorn," Carol absentmindedly says, poking her at PADD.
"You saw him naked?"
"Wha…? No it wasn't like that!" Carol sputters, dropping the PADD. "He just…he wasn't wearing a shirt. Look it was no big deal."
She can feel Christine's dubious stare from miles away. "Carol…listen, you need to be careful."
Carol sighs. "Kirk's not dangerous, Chris."
"Not physically, no. But…it's easy to fall for him Carol. And he…it isn't as if he promised me anything more than a good time. I knew what I was getting into, but I fell for him anyway and I knew he was looking for anything more so I left and none of it was honestly his fault, but Carol…he'll break your heart."
Carol bites her lip. "I'll be careful," she promises. "I'm going back to England tomorrow anyway."
The sooner she's away from him, the sooner she can get her emotions in check.
It was just a little crush, big deal. She could get over it.
This was definitely not helping her get over it. Of course he had to be all charming and handsome in his dress uniform, with an awe-inspiring speech, and those damn blue eyes shining brightly in the sunlight.
"You should talk to him," Nyota says, later.
Carol frowns. "Why?"
"Well he's your friend isn't he? And he'll want to see you now that you're back from England," she replies smoothly.
Suspecting that Nyota is hiding ulterior motives, Carol cautiously makes her way towards Kirk, who has just finished speaking with Rina Hardwood.
"That was a lovely speech," she says, graciously.
He smiles brightly, if a bit awkwardly, when he sees her. Probably remembering his state of undressed during their last meeting.
Carol berates herself and shoves the memory away.
"Thank you Lieutenant," he says, formally. "How was your trip?"
"Delightful," she replies back, just as formal. "I see you've recovered well Captain," she adds, eyes trailing over his body. And she's right, he looks much better. He's gotten back all the muscle he'd lost while in comatose and there's a light tan to his skin—doubtless from the Georgia sun (yes she knew that Leonard had dragged him back to Atlanta for recuperation, but no one had to know that).
"Jim," he says, causing her to blink in confusion.
Compression dawns. "Carol," she says, smiling. "But only when off duty."
"I—uh—I'm glad you could be part of the family," he confesses, on the Bridge later.
The way he's looking at her, eyes shining bright, bashfully skirting around before holding her gaze, well…it's almost a confession in and of itself. It's not words, but it's a confession.
Family, she thinks. Yes, Jim Kirk could be family.
"It's good to have a family," she says honestly.
Carol is familiar with the phrase 'blood is thicker than water', but is coming to realize that she disagrees strongly with it. Your family is not the people you are related to, but the people that you have sworn to love and protect. Family means far more than blood.
She slowly becomes to realize that Jim has known this all along. Watching him interact with the Bridge Crew is proof enough. Although she is unsure how he gets along with the family he's related to, it's clear that he considers every one of his friends just as close.
Carol herself had gotten along fine with her actual family, but she'd never had…this.
In every gesture, every word, every glance, it was clear that the Enterprise considered her family as well.
"Carol," a voice startles her out of her thoughts.
"Jim," she replies, using his first name as they're technically off duty.
"Where are you headed?" he asks, as the two of them step into the turbolift.
She gives a shrug. "My quarters." It had been a long day.
"I'll walk you there," he offers, with a sort of gallant tone.
She raises an eyebrow at him. He scowls
"Hey, no nefarious intent. I promise," he protests. "It's on my way.
Carol eyes him for a moment, considering. She realizes that he looks exhausted, if the circles under his eyes count for anything. "Long day?" she finally asks.
"Not long enough." He offers a tired smile.
The turbolift opens and she leads them out, keeping an eye on him in her peripheral vision. His gait is slightly sluggish and his arms hang limply at his side. Carol decides that someone needs to talk to him about getting more sleep.
He frowns thoughtfully at the floor in thought, brow furrowed.
"You're thinking too hard," she says, give him a friendly nudge. "I think you need a drink."
"I don't drink alone." Jim's eyes twinkle. Nefarious intent indeed.
"Is that an invitation?" she asks lightly, coming to a stop.
Carol tries to convince herself that there was no ulterior motive in what they were doing. Just two friends—family—sharing a drink together. Even if he had been hitting on her earlier and she thought it was kind of…well…she enjoyed it anyway.
"I thought we were supposed to be sleeping," he says thoughtfully, staring down at his glass like it's to blame.
"You were the one who invited me," Carol grinned, knocking back her drink.
He shrugs slightly, gazing tiredly at her. She's about to make a sarcastic quip about something, when she realizes that he isn't looking away. In fact, he's gone rather pale and looks close to panicking.
"Are you alright, Jim?" she asks, brow furrowed, lips tugged into a frown.
This doesn't seem to do much, in fact, his eyes widen and his lips part slightly. He looks about five seconds away from an actual panic attack which worries Carol. Is this a side effect from the serum, is he ill, does she need to call Leonard—
"Jim! Captain!"
It's calling on his rank that seems to break him out of his stupor. His head snaps up and he blurts out, voice a bit slurred from the alcohol.
"I'm alright, Carrie."
She stops. She hasn't been called Carrie since she was a little girl.
"Carol," he corrects, blinking.
Her lips twitch slightly, but she keeps a straight face. "I think you've had too much to drink, Jimmy," she teases, losing the battle and breaking out into a smile.
Jim doesn't correct her, just smiles down at his drink.
Carol frankly is still worried about what just happened, but he looks fine right now. Maybe the alcohol really had been getting to him? In either case, he looked fine. Kind of happy even. His eyes were shinning in amusement and his head was ducked slightly in embarrassment. It was an odd look for someone as confident as Jim Kirk, as vulnerability was not something he displayed often.
It stirred a strange feeling in Carol's chest that she had trouble describing.
As the two of them talked into the late hours of the night, Carol finally understood what it was.
Oh well. There were worse things than falling for James Kirk.
I kinda of suffered over this one a bit and rewrote it at least three times before deciding to post it. I'm actually satisfied with the final draft for once . ;)
