What We Know
by Eris

Jim was quiet.

In the three years he'd known James T. Kirk, Leonard had (eventually) learned that his friend didn't do quiet. He's one of those people who burst with life and passion and noise wherever he went, so finding (stumbling upon) him in an empty corridor near Medical, staring at the wall with tears falling down his face… Well, of course Leonard was worried. It was maddening, how quiet the younger man was being.

In any other instance, Leonard would have stomped over and started complaining about something that would kick-start that jackass, devil-may-care attitude Jim Kirk was known for, but the tears (tears! Jim Kirk's tears!) stopped him. He'd never seen Jim cry (tear up in pain, yes, but never this) or look so utterly sorrowful and lost before. What the hell had happened to him?

Well, a lot, really. The past twenty-four hours had been such a hurricane of activity and adrenaline for Jim, it was a wonder he didn't have a heart attack through it all. But after saving Earth and ensuring the safe return of the Enterprise, Leonard would've thought Jim would be celebrating, not…this.

Jim sniffed gruffly, brusquely wiping his nose with his sleeve even as an audible sob caught in his throat. Leonard felt his heart clench in sympathy at the sound—it reminded him of himself on the day he lost everything he thought was important and beautiful in the world. According to that gut-wrenching sound, something similar had happened to his friend.

But how?

And when?

"Bones." Jim didn't look up, but he knew it was Leonard all the same. It had always frustrated him before, the creepy way that Jim always somehow knew who was nearby, but now he was grateful for it. He didn't know how else to approach his friend. "You need something? Is everyone okay?"

"They're fine. I'm just checking up on ya," Leonard replied. "What's wrong?" The words came out easily, 'cause God knows he's spent enough time asking Jim that on multiple occasions. It was practically the first words he'd say whenever he saw his friend. And he knew it was a bad sign when he was always a doctor than a friend first to Jim, but he was just so damn stubborn and clumsy! The kid didn't need to get into bar fights to earn a black eye—his own cabinet door gave him the nicest shiners already (Leonard hadn't believed his excuses until he actually witnessed the 'attack' first-hand).

Jim shook his head, smiling dryly. "Everything. Everything, Bones." There was desperation in his voice, a grief that told Leonard he could never comprehend what his friend was feeling, and he hated it instantly. Jim Kirk didn't believe in no-win scenarios, so what the hell was this? "It shouldn't be like this."

No, it shouldn't, Leonard agreed. Vulcan and its six billion inhabitants shouldn't be gone, half of the Academy's student population shouldn't be dead, and damn it, Jim shouldn't look this defeated! He didn't know how to comfort his friend, how to make him see the brighter side of things 'cause hell, he didn't know what the bright side was either.

"Did you know," Jim murmured, refocusing his gaze at the wall, "that my father would've lived to see me become captain of the Enterprise if he hadn't…?" Jim took a deep breath, staving off the words that screamed TABOO at Leonard. "He would've been my inspiration to join Starfleet. I would've gotten in when I was seventeen instead of twenty-two." He chuckled unexpectedly, wryly. "Then again, I'm captain at twenty-five now, compared to getting my ship at thirty-one." His face darkened. "Acting," he corrected. "Acting captain."

Leonard didn't know what to say. Jim wasn't making any sense to him, and he had to wonder if he'd missed a head trauma when he checked Jim over a few hours ago. "Jim, what are you talking about?" He had to ask, 'cause if he didn't, Leonard knew he would never be able to decipher the suddenly introspective enigma that was Jim Kirk.

Jim being introspective. The world was e—

No. Bad joke. Very bad joke, especially after today's events.

"Alternate universes, Bones," Jim muttered, glaring darkly at the unassuming wall. "We're in an alternate fucking universe, where everything's just a bastardized version of the original timeline." Leonard blinked, trying to absorb that statement even as he remembered Spock and Uhura's declarations of time-travelling and alternate realities.

Were they right? Were they in an alternate reality?

He had to wonder now too—what his life would have been like on the other side. Would his father have been so sick Leonard had to help him die? Would Jocelyn still divorce him for it? Would he still have lost custody of his beloved Joanna? Would he have joined Starfleet? Would he have met Jim Kirk on that fateful shuttle ride from Riverside, Iowa? Would he have lost so many of the young friends he'd made—?

And then he realized.

It didn't matter. All those questions and doubts and desires to have done better, been better?

Did.

Not.

Matter.

"Jim," Leonard began, "I can't bring myself to care about that stuff." Jim's eyes darted to him, disbelief and anger clear in the blue color of his stare. "And I get that maybe we could've had a better life than what we have now…but this," he said firmly, "this is the only reality I know. The only reality we know, and will ever know."

"But I don't want it." Jim's shoulders began to shake as he took a breath, a sob escaping him loudly. "I don't want this life. I don't want to lose people anymore. Not when things were better before."

Leonard had nothing to say about that. All he could do now was slump next to his broken friend and offer as much comfort as Jim would allow him to give. Yes, he was a doctor, but there were some things that even doctors couldn't fix—like broken hearts and broken dreams and broken souls.

That's when friendship stepped in.

Author's Note

Yeah…I don't know where this came from. Well I do—I was reading chapter 4 of Gravity by faithunbreakable, and then this popped into my head. If someone wants to do better, here's the prompt my brain cooked up in the space of 2 seconds:

"After the Battle of Vulcan, Jim realizes that there's something different about his memories. There's Mom, but then there's another Mom, and Sam, but there's another Sam too. And then there's Dad, who died when he was born, standing in the crowd, smiling widely (proudly) as Jim is given the USS Enterprise."

Good luck with that!

~E