He knew he was dead. Damn. He never thought he would've died like that. Just like George Kirk. For years, he hated George Kirk because he died the way he did. He couldn't have just saved himself to raise Jim, to keep Winona from going to that dark place and remarrying Frank. He couldn't have stuck around to be a father. And now he wasn't going to stick around to be a Captain, a friend. Oh god, his friends. Spock. Bones. Scotty. Sulu. Chekov. Uhuura. Pike- no. Pike was here in death with him. Speaking of, where was he? He looked around, seeing his old house, specifically the living room in Iowa. Except this didn't look like the house he grew up in. More pictures were out, pictures of Sam as a baby, of George and Winona. The house had a lived in feel that was so tangibly absent as he grew up. This must have been what the house looked like before Jim was born. Before he took all that away. Simply by living in George Kirk's place. However, it still didn't answer the question of where the hell was he?
"Limbo, Jimmy boy. They're trying to save you and if it works, then you're alive again. And you don't come here again until you die for good." The voice was familiar but he had never heard this voice before.
"Turn around, son." He did and saw someone he didn't expect. George Samuel Kirk. Senior. His father.
He knew he had so much he wanted to say. You bastard, what do you think of me, I'm sorry, was I worth it, oh god, I'm so sorry.
"I've been watching you. You've grown up so well. A great Captain, a great friend, a great son. A Kirk. I know you have questions, even accusations and I know I deserve them, but right now I just need you to hear this. I don't know if I'll have this chance again, I don't have forever here, and I'm not wasting it." George said.
Jim found himself unable to speak. So he nodded, trying to prompt his father.
"I'm so proud of you, Jimmy boy. You've become more than I could have ever hoped for. You had some trouble I wished I could've helped you with but it seemed Christopher Pike pulled you out of that. And when he did, I only grew more and more proud of you. Though, I think you could've done without all the one-night stands and hookers at the bar." For some reason, Jim felt a blush run across his cheeks. His father was scolding him. Frank didn't scold- he drank. Only Pike had ever cared about him like that. "But I think you wouldn't be Jim Kirk without it. And I wouldn't trade that for the world."
He tried to make sound out but nothing came out. His voice just wouldn't work.
"Don't try to talk, Jim. When you're in limbo, you can't ask or answer anything as you aren't dead for sure. When you die for good, no superman blood running through your veins, you will be able to ask me anything you want me to. But now we're gonna play a little game of charades." George explained.
He nodded again and pointed to himself.
"You."
He pointed to George.
"Me."
He drew an equal sign in the air.
"Do I think your life was worth mine?" George tried.
Jim nodded, blushing again. When he finally looked back at George, George held heartbreak in his eyes.
"Oh, son, you are worth so much more than me. I would do everything over again and again if it meant you could grow up to be the man you are. If they do bring you back, I want you to celebrate your birthday for once. It's not just my death day. You aren't useless, pathetic, or even in my shadow. My legacy is in yours now. Saved Earth twice now from madmen intent on destroying everything we hold dear. Billions of lives over eight hundred? No brainer." George praised.
Jim smiled. He shrugged, hoping George would understand that it was towards what his father had asked him to do. He did.
Jim wished there was a way he could act out that he was sorry. He hated George for so long and it wasn't George's fault. He died to save Jim and seven hundred ninety-nine more people. His death was more than something Jim hated in his life.
"Son, I know you regret your feelings. I can see it all over your face. You got that open book bit from me. But don't. You were a kid and your mother didn't look at you. I wasn't surprised you hated that day. Or even me. Especially with what your mother did. It's not your fault. Emotions like that make you human. Even though I really do wish I could change it, they made you who you are." George said.
He nodded. Speaking of his mother, he wanted to know what he thought of her now. For years, whenever he would do something to anger her, one of the few times (he could count on one hand) she'd actually looked at him, he would use the insult 'Dad wouldn't love you anymore.' He knew it was much too far and he knew he shouldn't have said it at all but his mouth had a mind of its own sometimes.
He mimed a pregnant belly.
"Jim, is there something you want to tell me?" George teased.
Jim smiled and glared lovingly at his father.
He did the motion again.
"You don't have children so I'm assuming your mother." George guessed.
Jim nodded.
"What about her?" George asked.
Jim tried making a heart with his fingers.
"Do I still love her after watching what happened to our family?" George deduced.
Jim nodded.
"I was kind of hoping you wouldn't ask about it. To give you an honest answer, yes. Yes, I do. You don't know the woman I married, and or Sam's mother when I was his father. But that doesn't mean I don't love her anymore. What we had will last the test of time. I know she still loves me. I don't just watch over you. Sam is doing well by the way. You might want to call him if they bring you back. He misses you but doesn't know where to start with you." George said.
Jim stalked off, going into the kitchen. Dishes were in the sink, and the fridge was open. He shut the door. He sat down in the chair, used to yet not used to the feeling of the chair. He missed his Captain's chair.
"You still blame him for leaving you with Frank." George cut to the point.
Jim nodded, fighting the tears that were threatening to build.
"Son, your brother didn't mean to hurt you. He loves you, but he put himself before you. That's what most everyone does with you I know that. And I know that's not fair. But as much as I don't want to remind you of it, think of Tarsus IV. Think of the children you saved. Without you, they wouldn't have made it out. And if Sam had been with you, you might not have been given to your aunt and uncle." George said.
Jim lashed out, standing knocking over the chair and went to the window. Though the house was lit and kind of glowed a little, only darkness was at the window. He found himself wanting to go away but he refused to back down. He had a reputation for a stubborn little shit for a reason.
"Jim, that's a little about what death is for. Watching over your family and realizing how much they miss you. Watching how much they need each other." George said.
Jim didn't move. George came up behind him, turned him around and gave him a hug. He'd only ever had this done to him twice. Once with Bones when he found out he was a survivor of Tarsus IV, and the other with Chris when he'd graduated, after Chris could stand of course. Obviously, he'd hugged other people but never like true family giving you a long, hard, loving hug.
Jim returned it immediately, having always wanted this from his father. George held on for a while before he let go. Jim denied all existence of tears running down his cheeks. George just smiled.
"Just… give him a chance, will you?" George said.
Jim nodded. Then cocked his head. He still wasn't sure whether he was going to be able to go back. How did his father sound so certain?
"Jim, I've seen your friend McCoy in action. He'll bring you back. This wouldn't be the first time he worked a miracle." George said with a smile. He had complete faith his son would return to the land of the living. A little of it was rubbing off on Jim.
Jim shrugged and rolled his eyes fondly with a smile. He didn't call Bones a miracle worker for nothing.
A knock sounded at the front door.
"I thought he'd show up soon. He's still adjusting but I knew he'd want to see you. I know he wants to talk with you." George muttered.
Jim tried asking who it was.
"Relax, Jimmy boy. It's all right. We can't have more than two people here. Doesn't work that way. This is goodbye, son. Unless I'm wrong, we won't see each other for many years. Hopefully we don't. As much as I miss you and want to see you, maybe challenge you to a game of three-dimensional chess I don't want it to be here. We have so much time for that later. But promise me this." George gave him another long, hard hug.
Jim nodded.
"Remember I love you. I've always loved you. And I will always be proud of you." George looked Jim in the eyes and for a moment he wanted to turn away but the firm grasp on his arms wouldn't let him.
Jim nodded again, not bothering to stop the tears.
"Good. Goodbye." George hugged him again, Jim hugged back as hard as he could and then George disappeared with a smile on his face.
He opened the door but no one was there. However, it did lead to another room he recognized. Now, he was… home. No. This wasn't home. This wasn't the Enterprise. This was… he knew this house, dammit!
"Now I'm only gonna say this once. Sit down, shut up and listen to me." He never thought he'd hear that voice again.
Now he knew where he was. He turned and Christopher Pike stood in front of him. He looked like the night he'd first come over for a Sunday dinner. Same outfit, no cane, same smell coming from the kitchen. This was the first night he'd come over for dinner. The first night anyone had taken an interest in him. He remembered every detail with perfect clarity. He'd burned it into his memory.
"Kid, why do you look like this is the second coming?" Pike asked exasperated.
Jim's mouth moved before he remembered he couldn't speak. He had tried to say I'm so sorry for everything. I didn't mean to let you down.
"Let me down? Let me down?! Kid, sit down and listen to me for once! Now I hate yelling at you but it seems to be the only way to get through that thick skull of yours!" Pike shouted.
Jim froze. It wasn't often Pike yelled at him, he only did it when he truly deserved it. Apparently, he'd screwed up again.
"I said sit." Pike growled.
Jim sat on the couch.
"Not there. In the kitchen. Where the food is." Pike rolled his eyes at his young charge, something he did often as his face softened. The small action made Jim's heart jump a little. He hadn't realized how much he missed that one seemingly insignificant action.
Jim stood and made his way into the kitchen. The familiarity of the smells washed over him and gave him a sense of home. He never felt alone here. He always felt like he was supposed to be here. Like someone cared he was there. In a lifetime of uncaring figures, finally having that gave Jim strength. He knew losing one of the only people who ever cared for him made losing Pike all the harder.
He sat down where he always sat and Pike did the same. On the table, the food was simple but delicious. A potato and bacon frittata. He'd never had one before and Pike was a great cook. Much better than the TV dinners and replicated food Frank gave him. And since no one had taught Jim how to cook, he usually went out if he wanted something actually edible and not burnt six ways from Sunday. As per their normal routine, Jim dug in almost immediately, the smells slowly murdering his patience.
"Don't get too used to this. We won't have it again for a while." Pike said casually and that caused Jim to stop eating. He cocked his head to the side.
"Because even now the superhuman blood is flowing through you. Healing you. Bringing you back. You're going to live, Jim." Pike said with a smile.
Jim tried to smile back but found he couldn't.
"Don't you give me that look of I-don't-deserve-this, James Kirk. Living through that is no small feat. Greater even than finishing command track in three years. Something only you could do, something only you deserve." Pike snapped.
Jim looked down. He was coming back. Pike wasn't. He wouldn't ever come back. Jim was going to be fatherless once more. Only this time it was going to be a lot more painful.
"Kid, look at me." Pike spoke so softly Jim had no choice but to obey.
"My death was not your fault. It was Harrison's, or Khan's as George tells me that's his real name. There was nothing you could've done. You saved a hell of a lot more people by destroying his ship. George told me what you did. I was so proud of you, son. The minute he said that you were the one to take down Khan, I looked him right in the eye and said "That's my boy"." Pike whispered.
That was an annoying tactic Pike had. He spoke softly so Jim had to strain to hear him, to make sure he was listening. He never thought he would miss the way Pike spoke so quietly. Not for the first time, tears blurred his vision but this time he simply let them flow. Pike never cared if he cried. Never saw it as weakness. Didn't judge him for it.
When Pike paused, thinking he wanted an answer, Jim nodded.
"would you give me the answer you truly feel, Jim? Do you still blame yourself for my death?" Pike cut.
Jim blushed and nodded.
"Well, don't. Show me what you could've done." Pike stated.
Jim tried miming running faster.
"If you were faster, we'd have to call you a warp drive. You thought as fast as you could, went as fast as your body could allow. The speed you keep miming is probably too fast for even Spock. Your speed had nothing to do with my death." Pike picked apart.
Jim tried dragging.
"Finding me quicker and dragging me out?" Pike guessed.
Jim nodded.
"All right. If you'd done that, a helluva lot more people would've lost their lives and you would be bemoaning how you could've saved those people to Doctor McCoy. You would still feel their blood on your hands. Plus, do you think I would want other people to die for me? What if you were hurt, or worse killed in that attack? You can go on without me, kid. I couldn't go on without you. I would've resigned from Starfleet, so would McCoy and Spock and maybe some of your bridge crew. I know for certain that Scotty would. They adore you Jim. Losing you like that might have even prompted Spock to go out on a vengeance spree as you did for me. Except I don't think Spock would've gotten permission from Admiral Marcus," Suddenly Pike burst into a coughing fit which sounded suspiciously like 'that traitorous bastard.' He recovered quickly. "Because Marcus would've thought he'd only be logical and negotiating is only logical. He couldn't count on using him the way he tried to use you. He might've made Spock resign and make him go out for revenge on his own. You and I both know that wouldn't have ended well. Do you know what happened with Khan and Spock, Jim?"
Jim shook his head.
"Well, after you died, Spock chased the bastard across San Francisco and started beating the hell out of him. They were evenly matched, mostly and Spock only stopped laying into him because Uhuura, the communications officer you used to talk about all the time, I think I got her name right," At Jim's nod, he cleared his throat. "Well she beamed down and told Spock they needed him alive to save you. And that's exactly what they're doing."
Jim nodded. Didn't sound like Spock, but the man was his greatest friend save Bones of course, and Pike never lied to him. Not ever. If Pike said it was so, he believed it.
Jim sighed, though no sound came out. If Pike said his death wasn't Jim's fault, then Pike was right. He never lied, never said anything just to assuage guilt- if something was Jim's fault Pike would make that quite clear but yet somehow there would be a fondness in his tone Jim never placed.
"Finally come to your senses, huh, kid?" Pike smirked.
Jim glared at him.
"That's the Jim Kirk I know." Pike's smirk turned into a genuine smile.
Jim felt his features soften into a smile.
"Dig in, kid. You're going to need some strength to come back. You are going back, aren't you?" Pike asked.
Jim thought for a minute. He liked this existence. He could feel his vocal chords loosening. But it wasn't what he wanted. What he needed. He wanted his ship, he needed his friends. Just watching would drive him nuts. If he was going out, his friends were going to be beside him and they were all going to be like eighty. Or ninety. Or a hundred and twenty. Wait, how old was Spock Prime? He'd have to ask once he got back.
Jim nodded and Pike smiled again. Jim dug in and they fell into the routine they had both grown accustomed to.
"I need you to do something for me, though." Pike said.
Jim nodded.
"Promise me I won't see you back here for many, many years." Pike looked him directly in the eyes.
I'll do my best, but if I can save someone I'm doing it. He mouthed it but as Pike understood him the first time why couldn't he understand the second?
"I don't know what you just said." Pike said dryly.
Jim scrutinized him. He mimed going back in time as best as he could.
"Earlier? I guessed. I can't read lips. I'm no linguist." Pike shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Jim smacked his mentor/father figure on the arm. Pike laughed good-naturedly. Jim tried to show he would give his life for any member of his crew. Pike nodded, after all he had been a Captain before becoming an Admiral. Pike understood. They continued eating.
Abruptly, Jim felt the fork slide out of his hand. Pain shot across his body and he collapsed to the floor.
"Kid! Jim! Hold on. You're going to be all right. You're going to see your friends again. Life is yanking you down, kid. Make me wait as long as possible, kid. I'm so proud of you…" Pike's voice started fading. "I'm so proud of you, son." George's voice mixed with Pike's. "I love you, son. Remember the promises you made."
Blackness.
He opened his eyes and breathed again. Sick- no hospital. This was on the ground. He could see the sky. And white. Lots of white. And a very familiar face he never wanted to lose.
"Oh don't be so melodramatic. You were barely dead."