Hey, all! :) Well, this is a story that's been festering for a long time, ever since I saw a certain Tumblr post that both horrified and inspired the hell out of me (linked below). I've been working on this story on and off over the course of the last two years, and I've decided that it's about time to start sharing it with y'all. Feedback would be dearly appreciated, as this story means a lot to me and has seen me through several important stages of my personal growth. I hope you enjoy!

plaidshirtjimkirk . tumblr post/88639361736/imagine-a-city-on-the-edge-of-forever-au-where.

The lights flicked on in the small First Officer's quarters. There wasn't much to illuminate. Commander Sonak had been a precise, silent man, and it reflected in the hard sterility of his quarters. The blue Starfleet-issue blanket was crisply folded on the bed, as if no one had slept in it at all. His desk, angled beside the bed, only had a light touch of dust, and no pictures or metals winked atop its shelves.

Captain Kirk, standing in the doorway, sized up the room. He glanced down at the list on his PADD. "Well, I don't think it'll be too difficult to find what we need," he declared briskly, striding into the room. "Bones, you take his clothes, I'll take the computer."

Kirk stepped up to the computer. McCoy followed a few steps behind him and knelt down by the dresser. The first and second drawers were both empty, but the third held a small stack of clothes. McCoy took it out carefully, laying the folded garments out in front of him. Besides the science blue uniform, the Starfleet formal uniform, and nightwear, he only found one other article of clothing, a black Vulcan cape embroidered with golden lettering.

"This," McCoy called, looking back. "Who'd he bequeath this to?"

Kirk, bent over Sonak's computer, barely turned. "He wants it buried on Vulcan. Set it aside for now."

The captain transferred the last of Sonak's files to a data chip. He tossed the chip to McCoy. "Vulcan Science Institute."

McCoy fumbled to catch it. "Careful," growled McCoy, his eyes gleaming. "These belonged to your First Officer. You could show some respect."

Kirk ignored him and moved on to the stacked shelves beside the desk. "These all go to his brother," he muttered, clearing out one row of documents, "…and these…"

His hands stilled on one document. He needed to glance at it twice to confirm that it was handwritten, as Sonak's handwriting had all the exactness and uniformity of print. He had penned a note on it in black ink, and a small data chip was attached at the bottom.

Carefully packing away Sonak's phaser and tricorder, McCoy looked back. "What's that?" he inquired.

Kirk studied the page. "It's a note from Sonak. He says that if he's deceased, he'd like us to play this for him."

McCoy rose and walked over to join Kirk as he turned the computer back on and inserted the chip.

They waited. Several beats of silence hung. Then, in a rich, warm alto:

"Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me!"

"It must be what he wants played at his funeral," said McCoy quietly.

"I once was lost, but now, am found, was blind, but now, I see."

Jim stared at the computer, brow furrowed. McCoy looked at Jim and frowned. "Why do you look so surprised?"

"I never got to know him, but I didn't think of him as the spiritual type," he mused.

McCoy cocked his head. "Why not?"

Kirk laughed, a little bitterly. "Why not? Bones, we've watched civilizations destroy themselves because we weren't allowed to help them. We've seen crewmen die in the line of duty and we've written notes home to their families—always saying they'd died heroically and for the Federation, but we both knew it was for nothing. And look what we're doing now—cleaning up the quarters of a man who was killed two days ago."

"That's why people like us need it most," replied McCoy.

He looked at McCoy sharply. "What?"

"Belief."

"Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come/'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far, and Grace will lead me—"

A voice sounded in the hallway. "Sir?" it asked tentatively.

Both men turned around. Uhura stood in the doorway.

"Ah, Uhura." Kirk popped out the chip, and handing it to McCoy, strode into the hallway to meet her.

The young lady explained, "I was just going to your quarters, but I heard your voice in there, so—" She shifted. "Sir, there's something I need to ask you."

Kirk nodded, opening his palm. "Go ahead."

She glanced down. "If possible, sir—if it won't cause any problems—may I have tonight's shift off?"

"Is there a reason?"

"I have—" She laughed. "You see, Ensign Thorin asked me to have dinner with him this evening."

The captain thought. "Lieutenant," he said after a moment. "That's very sweet, but there's a lot of work to be done before we reach Vulcan, and your first responsibility is to the ship."

"Yes, sir," replied Uhura slowly, lowering her head.

"And with the void left by Commander Sonak…" Kirk felt McCoy's presence at his shoulder. Sighing, Kirk pulled his lips into a smile. "Well. You can't let Ensign Thorin down, can you? You have the night off, Lieutenant. You can make up for it tomorrow."

Uhura smiled, bobbing her head. "I promise. Thank you, sir!"

Kirk nodded, and Uhura ducked out of the doorway. He and McCoy gazed after her as she disappeared down the hall.

"That's a kind of belief, too," Kirk said. "The strongest, and the most fragile."

"Looks like she's still got it," murmured McCoy.

"And I hope she never loses it."

Captain Kirk gazed into the mirror, adjusting the high collar of his earth-and-honey colored Vulcan tunic. He looped the belt around his waist and fastened the bronze buckle brooch. Finally, he draped on his burnished golden robe. The captain regarded himself in the mirror, his fingers rising to the fine shadows under his eyes. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair instead and strode out of his quarters.

He met McCoy walking down the hall, dressed in a shale-colored outfit.

"I'm already suffocating in this thing," grumbled McCoy as they stepped into the turbolift. "Transporter Room," he commanded.

"We're headed to a Vulcan funeral, Bones," reminded Kirk, watching the Enterprise floors go by. "We need to respect their customs."

McCoy snorted. Kirk glanced over. "What?"

"It's funny coming from you, that's all."

Jim eyed him. "You have his effects?"

McCoy held up the wooden box concealed by the drapes of his cloak. As he did, a book slid from under his arm and fell to the floor.

Kirk bent down and handed it back to him, glancing at the cover curiously. "What's this?"

"Vulcan history and customs. I barely even speak Vulcan, so since you're already a walking diplomatic disaster, I don't want to add to the catastrophe."

Kirk chuckled. "Very considerate of you."

After a beat of silence, McCoy asked, "So I hear Uhura's going to sing the Amazing Grace?"

"That's right."

"Well, that's going to be lovely. By the way, how did her date go? Are the two of them together?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"You never asked her about it?"

"The personal lives of my crewmen are not my business."

McCoy frowned. "Jim, you always know what's going on with your crew." Kirk was silent. "You've stopped having dinner in the mess hall," he pursued. "You don't stop to talk to your crewmen. You barely batted an eye even when your First Officer died."

Kirk took a deep breath. "Bones, over the last month, seventeen of my crewmen died. I hardly think it's worth it."

McCoy opened his mouth to reply. At that moment, the lift jolted beneath their feet. The two stumbled backwards, grabbing at the handrails.

"Not now," sighed McCoy.

Another impact rocked the ship. Clinging onto the handrail, Kirk whipped out his communicator. "Kirk to bridge. What's going on?"

The doors slid open to the transporter room. Kirk and McCoy stepped out. Sulu's voice came through.

"We aren't quite sure, sir. Though we're still in orbit around Vulcan, we seem to be encountering some sort of ripples."

Uhura, wearing a copper-colored dress, strode over to the two. "Ripples? What kinds of ripples?" she inquired.

"We're still investigating," replied Sulu. "They're doing no damage to the ship, so it looks like they're perfectly harmless minor disturbances."

"Good," replied Kirk. "Sulu, can you take care of it?"

"Aye, sir. Now, you'd better get down to Vulcan. You don't want to be late to the ceremony."

"We won't be. Kirk out."

He shut the communicator and turned to Uhura and McCoy. "Ready?"

"I'm never ready to deal with Vulcans, but I'm as ready as I'll ever be," replied McCoy.

"Tolerance, Bones," reminded Kirk. "Here, take the translator."

He passed McCoy the tubular object, and McCoy strapped it to the inside of his arm. Motioning them forward, Kirk stepped onto the transporter pad.

Once the three were in position, Kirk commanded, "Beam us out, Scotty."

Scotty nodded. "Send Sonak's family my regards."

The three disappeared in a flurry of light.

When they rematerialized, the first thing they became aware of was a sense of absence. While they had expected the hot, dry Vulcan winds, they felt only a vague coolness. Their ears detected nothing, not even animal sounds or distant voices. The three looked around. Boulders surrounded them, cracking the landscape and purple sky into jagged edges.

"Captain," ventured Uhura. "I don't think we're on Vulcan."

Captain Kirk shook his head slowly. "No, we're not."

"Some 'minor disturbances,'" grumbled McCoy. "Well, isn't this lovely."

The captain stepped onto a low boulder, struggling to see over the rock walls all around them. They were too high to peer over. Frowning, he jumped down, and Uhura and McCoy rejoined him.

"Where the hell are we?" murmured McCoy.

Kirk began to shake his head. A deep voice stated, "A question."

All three whipped around. Behind several mounds of rock, a smooth ring of stone stood, glowing with pockets of light, the hole in its center staring back at them.

"Who are you?" inquired the captain, stepping towards it.

"I am the Guardian of Forever."

McCoy lifted his tricorder. Frowning, he turned to Jim. "It's both alive and not alive."

"I am both and neither," confirmed the voice. "I am my own beginning, my own ending."

"We didn't come here for riddles," said Uhura. "Tell us where we are, and how we got here."

"I answer as simply as your level of understanding makes possible," the voice responded. "You have been caught in a current of time. You are here and everywhere."

The hole seared with light, and the captain squinted against it. Then, images flashed across it: the stars pulling apart, stars exploding, newborn planets blazing. As the planets cooled, various life forms sprang up. Humanoid figures blazed across the images, wild-eyed, tumbling across the dust in combat.

"Incredible," Kirk murmured. "4th Century Vulcan. This must be the week of the Great Uprising just a year before the Time of Awakening and rise of Surak."

He stepped up to the Guardian of Forever, appraising it. Then, he cautiously reached forward to touch the dazzling array of pictures.

"Nothing at all solid," he confirmed. "All a project—"

He vanished.

"Jim!" shouted McCoy. He rushed forward, Uhura on his heels.

"What have you done with the Captain?" demanded Uhura.

"He has passed into what was."

"A time portal," murmured Uhura.

The two turned to face the Guardian. In the hole, a blank red planet stared out at them.

Uhura blinked. "Vulcan—"

"Vulcan is no more."

Uhura sucked in a breath. "The Captain has changed history. He's…erased Vulcan."

"Only him," muttered McCoy. "Uhura, contact the ship. Get a landing party down here."

Uhura took out her communicator. "Uhura to Enterprise." While the communicator still flashed and whirred, nothing came through, not even static. "Uhura to Enterprise."

"Your ship is also no more."

"What?" said both Uhura and McCoy.

"What about the crew?"

"They never were. Without First Contact made by Vulcan, Earth never achieved interstellar travel. Because of this, Earth, too, is gone."

Uhura and McCoy exchanged a stunned glance.

McCoy said, "So Jim is wandering around on Vulcan in some godforsaken century, and we're stranded with no past and no future?"

"Seems so," replied Uhura.

McCoy blinked. Then, he set his mouth into a firm lime. "Guardian, if someone enters, can they return?"

"If you rectify the change in history, the currents of time will recognize that you do not belong at the time where you have landed, and they will carry you back to your own era."

He nodded. "All right. Show us the dawn of Vulcan again."

Before them, a red-hot planet once again burst with light and fire.

McCoy watched for a few moments as life arose from the dusts of Vulcan once more. Then, he turned to face Uhura. "Uhura, when you think you've waited long enough, you'll have to go through. You have to promise me you'll try to find happiness wherever and whenever you end up. You'll get a new career, meet new people, maybe even fall in love—"

Uhura frowned. "Sir?"

McCoy fixed his blue eyes on the young woman. "Promise."

Uhura nodded slowly, understanding dawning on her. "Yes, sir."

The image of Vulcans locked in combat flashed across the screen again. Whipping around, McCoy sprinted toward, took his leap, and promptly vanished.