Disclaimer: I dont own Star Trek. Why would I? Star Trek and its characters do not belong to me, it belongs to...whoever it is that own it. (Not me)
The Devils' Hand
Having been surrounded by death for nearly two years, James Tiberius Kirk had believed himself numb to what had seemed like the most natural thing in existence. The unintentional falsehood of this statement only now began to rear its ugly head. Twin trails of moisture ran down his cheeks like raindrops down a glass window. Now, he thought, he truly was alone. All he had known had fallen through his fingers like sand slips through the nozzle of the hourglass; with a quiet taunting apathy.
In all honesty, he had expected it to end this way; his heart a shattered glass orb in the wake of the deaths of those he had loved, his spirit broken beyond repair. What he hadn't expected was the small sentient being that would keep him from ending his life with the revolver bullet tied around his neck.
He looked at her and smiled a small, sad, Un-Kirkian smile. Her blond curls framed her small, pudgy face, her green eyes shining like stars. The redness of her cheeks and nose alerted him to the fever she was fighting almost as much as the high temperature of her flesh. He could see his face mirrored in her infantile features, though he knew very well they shared no relation. She had done nothing to deserve the quiet vigil he kept over her defenseless form.
And for this he hated her. He hated her with all his heart for keeping him attached to the world of the living. Hated her for making him love her so much. James hated the little girl who shared his name with all his heart and soul, and as much as it hurt, he would never forgive her for that which she had no control over.
He shook his head as if to rid his mind of the poisonous thoughts and continued walking. He had been walking for so long he had lost count of both the miles he had crossed and the amount of time it had taken to do so. 'Only a few more miles' had become the mantra that kept his feet moving. He had to get back. Had to protect, to save, to preserve all that was left of them...
The little girl yawned, and stretched her hand out, placing her minute hand on his index finger. She was so tiny, he noted, that if he truly desired, he could snuff the life right out of her, -end it for both of them, hand them over to a higher power- but quickly banished the thought from his consciousness. As much as he would hate Jamie, he would never be able to hurt her. He loved her too much. He lifted her small hand with his finger, and placed a tentative kiss on her knuckles. She yawned again, and snuggled closer to the warmth his body so willingly provided.
In the wake of the destruction of his world, a flower bloomed.
A/N: Hello World! If you were terribly confised by this, I apoligise. This is my very first published Fanfiction, and it its a part of a much bigger story I'm writing. I kind of need some help though. The story contains a Romulan OC, and I can't seem to find out anywhere if Romulans are touch telepaths. If you know, please tell me!