Author's Notes
Star Trek is owned by Paramount and was created by Gene Roddenberry. Chapter inspired by lyrics in "Total Revenge" by Say Anything. In no way, shape, or form do I own anything nor do I make any profit. This chapter has been edited for: grammar and spelling and change of title.
Chapter Three: Return To Enterprise
They walked in silence for a long time. Jim wasn't sure where they were going. He just let his feet guide him. Finally, Spock spoke up, "Captain-" Kirk stopped and turned to him. "Call me Jim." Spock met his eyes. He couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine. Had his eyes always been so dark with a hint of amber? Jim looked away, completely unnerved. "Jim..." He seemed to test the name in his mouth.
"Where exactly are we going?" Kirk felt a slight rush of blood into his cheeks. "Somewhere quiet. Where we can talk." Spock raised an eyebrow and looked around. "I believe the level of sound in our current location would be considered quiet, Jim," He replied. Jim rolled his eyes. Looks like nothing changed.
"So, you want to come back." He couldn't stop the harshness from seeping into his voice. Spock pulled at the hem of his jacket. "Yes." Jim pushed his hands deep into his pockets. "And what makes you think that I need you back?" The bitterness was definitely there. But he couldn't take it back now. He clenched his jaw, doing his best to hold his ground. Another fleeting look came from the Vulcan. "Have you filled the position?" He removed his hands from his pockets and crossed them over his chest. "Maybe I have someone else in mind."
"Do you?"
"Possibly."
"What are their qualifications?"
"That's really none-"
"I believe that I am more than qualified-"
"Really? Because when reviewing your past experience on a ship, you left without giving a proper-"
"I don't understand-"
"How can I be sure that you won't abandon us-"
"I had no choice."
Jim blinked, his mouth slightly agape. He was startled to see a tinge of green dusting the Vulcan's face. Yet no emotion marked his face. There was a tightness in Kirk's chest that made it hard to take in air. It had been some time since somebody had riled Kirk up. Of course, nobody could do it better than Mr. Spock.
"Where have you been, Spock?" Wow, could he make himself sound any more desperate? Spock's eyes flickered, his body rigid. He waited for a reply, but none came. Jim shook his head. He tried to speak, but found the words stuck on the back of his tongue. Finally, he gave up and started walking again.
"Wait-" Suddenly, a firm hand was grasping his arm. Jim froze in place, blue eyes locking into brown. The hand quickly removed itself. "Capt- Jim. I will tell you. I just need time." His eyes were so dark, pupils dilated from the lack of light. There was something so... human in that expression. Something he had rarely seen in his first Officer. Of course, he had forgotten that Spock was only half Vulcan. There was human blood coursing through those veins.
Suddenly, the young Iowan man felt incredibly hot. He adjusted the collar of his jacket and cleared his throat quietly. "Mr. Spock, report for duty first thing tomorrow morning. We'll get everything worked out then." Kirk was pretty sure a smile broke that straight line of a mouth, if only for a second. "Thank you, Captain."
He felt dizzy. He was sure he was going to faint. "I'll see you tomorrow..." Jim mumbled, turning. "Where are you going?" He didn't even turn to reply. "To be alone."
. . . .
There had to be something in his room. Jim was sure of it. He quickly slipped out of his jacket and began rummaging through his things. He had been collecting for a while now, hiding them throughout his room. They were security, just in case he needed something a little extra to sleep. Yet, a slight fear of someone rifling through his things made him change the location each time.
Finally, behind a stack of books, he found a pint of vodka, yet to be drank from. It wouldn't be enough. He was sure he had another one, hidden amongst his stuff. He unscrewed the cap and chugged down the clear liquid.
Anything to forget.
He tossed the bottle aside when it was empty. So dizzy. When had he become so exhausted? Jim stumbled around his room, trying to find his other bottle. Maybe it was in his dresser. He had a habit of burying them underneath his uniforms; the way he buried his secrets within himself. But nothing was there. He wandered, growing desperate.
Spock was back.
Joy. Anger. Hurt. Confusion. His throat burned. His head spun. The alcohol shouldn't have affected him so fast. Where the hell was that bottle? Was this even his room? When had he ended up on the floor? He knew Spock had been First Commander to better Captains. Hadn't he? At least Pike for sure. So, why did he want to come back? Jim didn't need him. At least, that's what he would pretend. Because he couldn't deny that he missed him. He missed him so much. Everything ached. He just wanted to forget. Black and blue. Yellow noose. Just forget, Jim. Forget.
. . . .
Jim woke with a flash light blinding him and a splitting headache. His hand flew up to his face to cover his eyes. "Rise and shine, princess. You're in the way." He recognized that voice. "Bones?" He croaked. "The one and only. Now get up so these nice people can do their job." Jim blinked a few times and looked around. Bones leaned over him, several officers peering down at him from behind the doctor. "Where am I?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbows. Bones glanced back at the officers. "He's fine. Get back to work. I'll get his sorry ass out of the way." Bones looked back at Jim and shook his head.
He stood and held out a hand. Jim took it and lifted himself, his legs wobbling beneath him. Instantly, he was hit was a stabbing pain behind his eyes. Bones then roughly grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the room.
"Bones..." Jim's stomach turned. "You woke up in his old room." He screwed up his face, confused. "Who's room?" Bone's grip tightened. "My god, farm boy. You really have lost your damn mind."
They made it to Sick Bay rather quickly. Bones shoved Kirk down onto one of the beds. "Don't move or I'll paralyze you," He threatened. He then walked off, disappearing behind a curtain. Jim leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. Every muscle in his body felt like they had been injected with mercury. He breathed slow, trying to ebb the pain in his frontal lobe.
"I'm a doctor, Jim. Not a therapist. But it doesn't take one to see that something is seriously wrong here." He felt the hypo bite into his neck. He flinched. "When you didn't show up for your physical this morning, I was sure you had gone out and gotten yourself too poisoned-"
"Commander Spock has returned to Enterprise. He starts working today."
It slipped out before he even processed what he had said. The air grew stiff and he heard McCoy inhale sharply. When only silence returned to him, he looked up. He couldn't quiet read the look on his Medical Officer's face. "Is that what all this has been about?" Kirk shook his head and averted his eyes to the ground. McCoy muttered something under his breath. "That hobgoblin is nothing but trouble... If you don't shape up, I'll get a psych evaluation in here quicker than a possum running from a tractor."
Kirk looked up slowly, his eye brow's furrowed. "Wha-" He started to say, but Bones had the hypo at the base of the neck again, injecting him with something else. "Augh, fuck!" Jim shouted. Several nurses looked in their direction, startled by the sudden fowl language. He rubbed his neck furiously.
"I want to see you to check in once a week now. If I'm not personally checking your vitals, one of my nurses will." Jim rolled his eyes. "You can't make me do that." Bones held up the hypogun, a disturbing glint in his eyes, "Wanna bet?"
McCoy gave him a once over with his tricorder. The full physical could wait until next week. Jim was then told his face was tiring and he was to get the hell out of sick bay. "If I see you back here before next week for any reason, I will break your head open and ship you back to Iowa," were Bone's exact words. The man was obviously in need of a good lay. Jim had lost count of the amount of threats he had given him within the past year.
The walk back to his quarters was awkward. Every turn he took, there was a small group of the crew. He lowed his head slightly and smiled at them. They all stared, a few would smile back, others quickly averted their sight. The whispers were faint. Either news traveled fast or this was typical behavior that he, for some reason, had not noticed before.
Thankfully, it wasn't much of a walk to his room. Once he was inside, he exhaled and rested against the wall. That's when he realized his room was completely trashed. Clothes had been tossed all over, every drawer in his dresser open, books scattered across the shelves. An empty bottle laid in the middle of his bed, it's cap missing.
Total chaos.
Jim cleaned his room quickly. It helped distract him from his thoughts and got him focused. Since it didn't take long to get everything in order, he was out of his clothes in seconds and in the shower.
Hot water never felt so refreshing. It seemed to wash away the alcohol and clusterfuck of emotions that had consumed him last night. He let the hot water hit his neck and shoulders, the water rolling down his back. The steam was thick and wrapped around his body like a blanket, warming his skin. Jim then let his head drop back, letting the water soak into his hair and scalp.
"Where are you going?" Head slightly tilting. A hint of concern? Sharp dressed. Spock always looked good, but that uniform was devious. He wanted to hate him...
Kirk shook his head. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair. The alcohol must still be affecting him. He quickly scrubbed himself down and rinsed himself off. Once out of the shower, he dried himself quickly and slipped himself into his uniform. His communicator was wailing from his desk. Jim grabbed it on his way out the door.
