What If

Notes:

Sometimes a person won't let up, you know?

Sometimes, they're persistent.

This is what happens, I am very much afraid, when you insist upon what-ifs.

Standard disclaimers apply.

What If

The Fourth Time He takes the Test

Afterward, he tries to tell them that he knew this day would come, that he knew this would happen, that he knew he'd face the test again - that this was the way it would end.

He tries to tell himself.

But they don't believe him. And once again they're right: He knows, too, that he's lying.

He has never believed in the no-win scenario – and everyone… everyone knows that.

But if there ever were to be a no-win scenario, this would be it.

There would be no winning, here.

He looks into the deep solemn familiar brown eyes that turned with well-concealed surprise at his unannounced and precipitous arrival; and tries to find words that will, somehow, convey not just the news, the facts, the bare naked truth – but prove, as well, that he has learned the lesson, and understands the true depth and gravity of this moment.

He fails.

He tries to find some words to explain.

He tries to find words of comfort, when no words of comfort can possibly prevail. And no need of comfort will be acknowledged.

He is failing, still.

He breathes.

And knows that he will never discover impossible, 'right' words.

The eyes looking into his own are blacker, now – bleak.

And Jim knows that there is no longer any need to search for words. There is no need to speak words that will dissolve one last remaining tie in a life already filled with sacrifice.

There is no more need to say anything perfectly, at all.

And yet – to not say the words – inevitably imperfect, broken, inadequate words – is simply not an option.

His listener is an expert in analyzing the ramifications inherent within a no-win scenario - in surviving the unthinkable. And he is an expert in hearing the unspoken.

No words are necessary.

Still…

Jim will find words.

He will still speak them, and the other will listen, still.

Here, right here in front of him, is the Kobayashi Maru.

And he is the Captain of the Enterprise.

He draws breath, he meets those eyes, and then he says, imperfectly, "She's dead, Spock."