Chapter 4
Summary: "Say one more word. One more word about Uncle Jim and I swear to god I will use my knowledge of Tellarite biology to make sure you have to grow a new ruminant stomach you pig-faced, purple blooded bastard."
Notes: Short chapter, sorry, life has eaten me. I thought it's better to get up what I had than to sit on it for longer, hence why this has now got '?' number of chapters, as I'll be uploading what I can when I can.
When Leonard woke up the next morning, Jim had already got out of bed. He'd been hoping that he would have stayed, they could have talked a bit more and Leonard could have shown Jim a little more how sorry he was that he hadn't believed Jim immediately.
Jim's reassurances that he hadn't cheated were equally as interesting in Leonard's opinion.
He shifted, staring at the alarm. It blinked at him showing that it was 6AM. Well before any of them had to be up. He stretched out, considering going back to sleep, when he heard it. A muffled retching sound coming from the bathroom.
Doctor senses tingling, Leonard got to his feet, pulling on a t-shirt of Jim's that stretched too tight across his shoulders. He ran a hand over his stomach, sighing as he realised he still had some way to go to get himself back to the same level of fitness he'd been used to as CMO of the Enterprise.
He padded out of Jim's bedroom, and seeing the bathroom door was open, he stepped inside. The rancid scent of vomit met his nose immediately. Jim was clutching at the bowl of the toilet, his knuckles white, as he dry retched, his whole body taut and shaking.
"Hey, you alright?" Leonard asked, kneeling down next to Jim and putting a hand on the other's shoulder. Jim tilted his head sideways and Leonard felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Jim's eyes were red, puffy, his nose and top lip rubbed sore already. His skin was blotchy. Leonard would have diagnosed him with illness then and there if it weren't for something in Jim's eyes.
Fear. Pain. Humiliation. Anger. Helplessness. Sorrow.
"Whoa, Jim, what's the matter?" Leonard asked. Jim flushed the toilet, wiping at his mouth with his hand. He didn't move for a long moment. Leonard could feel his heartbeat through his back, hammering hard and fast as though trying to break free of the other's chest.
"The morning papers… There's a report…" Jim's voice was hardly above a whisper, a low croak that Leonard had to strain to hear. He tried to smile, hoping it looked reassuring. Another story, huh? Well, he'd trusted Jim on the last one, and he was going to trust him in this one. Even if it was some woman claiming to have had some kind of debauched one on one with his Jim.
"Jim, I told you last night, we're going to get through this. I'm not going to go off the deep end about gossip rags anymore," he said, keeping his voice calm and level. Jim didn't so much as crack a smile. In fact he looked more hollowed out than ever.
"They know. They published it. Oh god, Bones, everyone knows," Jim whispered. Leonard could smell vomit on his breath and could see the panic attack coming on. Jesus, Jim hadn't got this worked up in years.
"C'mon kid, breathe… In and out… Come on I know you can do it," Leonard said, keeping his hand moving in gentle circles on Jim's back. He felt Jim move slightly, curling in against him, burying his face against Leonard's shoulder as the shaking seemed to overtake his body.
"Everyone's gonna know. Everyone's gonna know what happened. I don't want them to, Bones. I don't… I can't… I don't want anyone's pity," he mumbled and Leonard had no idea what Jim was talking about anymore. There were a hundred things that Jim had done over the last ten years that Jim was less than proud of and it could be anything.
"Gonna fill me in on what we're talking about here, kid?" he asked, keeping his tone gentle. His hand grasped at the short strands of hair at the back of Jim's head, stroking through them as he tried to soothe the other.
"Tarsus, Bones… They published an article about Tarsus."
Joanna made it through the first two hours of the next day at the Academy with gritted teeth. All people wanted to talk about was Tarsus IV. They made condescending noises under their breath, talked about the poor Commodore when they thought she was out of ear shot, and sometimes when they knew she wasn't, speculated wildly about how it explained some of Commodore Kirk's more eclectic behaviour.
It took until she was waiting for her third lecture of the day to finally lose it.
"You know, I heard his whole family died down on Tarsus," A Tellarite cadet was saying, fiddling with his sleeve as he held court amongst five others. He was a second year, like Joanna, and on the command track. He was arrogant though, his own abilities not as honed as was needed to do well in Starfleet, but an ego so large that he thought that it didn't matter.
"Heard Kirk ran out and saved himself and left them all to die," he continued. Joanna's hand tightened around the PADD in her grasp. She refused to look at any of them. His little clique all made noises as though that was something they wholeheartedly expected.
"Of course, it makes sense that he's got that thing going with Doctor McCoy now, doesn't it? I mean, they're not going to let some childhood traumatised psychopath just free on the galaxy without a babysitter. And who better than a doctor huh? I bet the guys who served on the Enterprise are really pissed off at having served under someone who could have broken at the first sign of the word 'famine'."
Joanna promised herself she wouldn't intervene. She tried to ignore the sound of her heart beating in her ears, tried to see passed the red that was slowly descending over her vision. She was not going to get involved. She was above all this idle gossip.
"I mean… Did you see that article? The photograph of him from the rescue team? Those ship logs? You mark my words, Kirk's never going to command a starship again. They're going to squirrel him away in a nice desk job. That's what he needs really, must be so psychologically disturbed."
Joanna barely registered what she was doing until it was too late. The Krav Maga training she'd undergone since starting the Academy coming to her as easily and fluidly as breathing. She hadn't even realised she had him on the floor until he was there, panting, his arm twisted behind him as his friends stared, shocked. She'd taken him down in less than five seconds, but she'd had surprise on her side.
For a moment they all stood there and no one seemed to dare to move.
"Say one more word. One more word about Uncle Jim and I swear to god I will use my knowledge of Tellarite biology to make sure you have to grow a new ruminant stomach you pig-faced, purple blooded bastard," Joanna hissed.
That seemed to rouse everyone else and she felt the fist connecting with her kidneys with an almost dazed 'oh'. It didn't hurt, the adrenaline and the anger surging through her stopping that, but she soon realised she was completely and utterly overwhelmed and this hadn't been the bestidea.
"Cadets!"
That was the sound of their instructor and Joanna felt them all move off her. She staggered to her feet. Her nose was bleeding, her lip split and she was almost certain that she had at least one if not two broken ribs. Her knuckles were sore from where they'd connected with the Tellarite's snout.
She was somewhat proud that she wasn't the only one who was sporting injuries though.
"All of you, get your asses to the Commander's office now. He's going to deal with you."
Jim was sat on the couch. He stared at the blank holovid screen in front of him, his mind going over the article again and again. They'd published information on all the nine survivors, detailing not just their stories on how they'd survived, but also the details of their murder at the hands of Lenore Karidian. It was his own article that took up the most space.
They'd published the goddamn ship logs of the Karidian Incident as well as dredged up as much of Jim's story as it was possible to. There was very little of it, but the photographs spoke for themselves. His own form, emaciated, dirty, blue hollow eyes staring out of a face that was too young to understand what had happened.
"Here."
Jim looked up, seeing Bones had brought him hot chocolate laced with marshmallows and whipped cream and sprinkles. He stared at it for a moment. There had been a time when he hadn't thought he'd taste anything so rich again in his life, scrabbling around and eating plants that made his stomach churn. He took the mug, cradling it in his hands.
"We never spoke about Tarsus. But I want to tell you. The whole story. I don't want you to find out from this… this stupid…" his throat closed up. Bones sat down next to him, his hand snaking around Jim's waist and resting there, a warm constant weight against him.
He'd never talked about it. Not to anyone. Not the therapists. Not his mother. Not his brother. No one had heard Jim Kirk's story and he'd thought he'd never have to tell it. Never have to remember it.
The smell of chocolate wafted to his nose.
"I'm here, Jim," Bones said softly and Jim took comfort in the other's gentle drawl. He nodded and tried to figure out where to start.
"I don't know where to start," Jim whispered and Bones' arms around him tightened.
"Would it be easier for me to tell you what I know first?" he asked. Jim stilled in Bones' arms. He knew that Bones knew at least something about Tarsus IV, knew that he'd been old enough to have followed the news coverage as it occurred. He found himself nodding, leaning into Bones carefully so he didn't spill his hot chocolate. When the other began to speak, his voice reverberated through his chest, the comforting vibrations running through Jim's cheek as he tried to bury himself away.
"I was... fourteen? I guess that's about right. Yeah I must have been," Bones began and Jim tried to imagine it. He'd not seen any pictures of Bones as a teenager, it was hard to imagine him without the frown lines or laughter lines.
"I remember coming home from school and slinging myself on the couch. My ma was watching the news and I remember she was crying. I didn't even ask her what was wrong because I could see it on the screen. The reporter was… reeling off the numbers dead. Thousands of them. Pictures of the killing fields. Pictures of 'Kodos Triumphant' and footage of Starfleet boots on the ground," the steady cadence of Bones' voice was soothing. Jim could almost pretend that they weren't talking about him. That this was just a simple sharing of a story.
"They said it'd started because of a food shortage but then Kodos had come up with the idea of applying eugenics, choosing who should live and who should die, splitting the population. They said that only nine of those supposed to die had survived," Bones continued and his hand slid into Jim's hair, as though reminding himself that Jim was still there and he hadn't died.
"They said a kid killed him with an old metal bullet pistol," Bones continued and Jim could hear the hesitance in his voice now. "But they only had testimonies and didn't find a body."
Bones took a shuddering breath. "They said the kids had been… tortured."
Jim remained silent but Bones didn't speak again, keeping his hands on Jim, keeping his breathing even. The sound of his heart was strong beneath Jim's cheek and he didn't want to sit up but he knew he had to. He could feel the hot chocolate in his hands.
He leaned away from Bones to sip at it. Bones knew… the minimum. What had been officially released. None of what had actually happened down there.
"I was tortured, Bones. I'm not going to go into the details. You'll probably find its updated in my medical files after this anyway. But yes, there was torture," Jim said, keeping his voice level and trying not to say anything more.
"What kind? They didn't-"
"No Bones. Kodos didn't fuck kids," Jim's mouth became a firm line. "I escaped when he made the announcement and went wild, feral. Living off whatever I could find that hadn't died and could be eaten. I found Leighton pretty early on and we worked together, scavenging food. But we couldn't survive, not with two of us. We were forced to split up. It was then that I was captured."
"I don't remember a lot of what happened next. I think I blocked it out for self-preservation. They took me back to his fucking palace and I remember that I was 'made an example of'. I remember he got close enough, one time, and I took my chance. I was so hungry, Bones, I was hysterical, insane. I just grabbed this stupid antique that he'd been parading around and shot it. I don't even think he realised it was loaded."
"After that there was uproar. He was lying on the floor and there was so much blood. I had no idea what a bullet did to someone. I remember retching, only I had nothing in my stomach to come up. I stood there, shaking. I tried to throw the gun away but it burned my hand. It imprinted the goddamn engraving along the barrel onto my palm and it took years for the scar to fade…"
"When Starfleet came, I was already a complete mess. I don't think I was even human at that point. They took me in, treated me as best they could, but I refused to speak. I went months without saying a word. It took even longer for me to stop hoarding food, to stop vomiting every time I over ate even slightly."
"I was diagnosed with every mental illness, every behavioural disorder, and people treated me like I was different. I couldn't even begin to comprehend how much my life sucked at that point. I felt like everything had abandoned me, everything was gone and it was just me and my skinny little arms and raw throat and a universe that hated me."
"Please say something Bones…" Jim said, having talked himself out. Bones hadn't said anything the entire time, his body completely still, his gaze focused on Jim's face. Jim couldn't force himself to look at the other, didn't want to see his pity or his horror or anything else. He took another sip of his hot chocolate.
"I love you, Jim. I'm glad you survived," Bones said quietly and just like that, Jim felt the tears sting his eyes. Bones knew him. Knew not to offer half-hearted apologies for something he could have done nothing about, didn't try to reason with Jim that he wasn't worthless or broken, didn't rage against Kodos who was almost five years dead at Jim's own hand. Instead, he said the words that Jim needed to hear; he just hadn't known it.
"Bones…" he didn't care that the hot chocolate slipped between his hands, it fell to his carpet, staining it brown. He reached for the other, clutching him as he sobbed against his chest. Bones just held him, rocking him gently.
"I'm glad you're alive, Jim. Thank you so much for trusting me."
Jim had returned to bed, exhausted.
Leonard had collected Joanna from the Academy, staring blankly at the papers detailing her suspension for brawling.
His superior had commed telling Leonard not to come in until everything had settled down with his personal life.
Jocelyn had sent a pre-recorded transmission suggesting that perhaps Joanna return to her after the exams for the vacation period to stop her from getting caught up in it all.
It was a clusterfuck, pure and simple, and Leonard didn't know what to do. He let Joanna into Jim's apartment, asking her if she was hungry. She'd just stared at him and walked away, shutting herself in Jim's spare room.
Jim was still asleep when Leonard checked on him, blankets tangled around his legs from where he'd tossed and turned.
Leonard returned to the lounge, pulling his PADD closer to him and staring at it for a long moment before he brought up both the most recent articles.
"Run diagnostics. I want to know if these two articles bear the same author," he said. He set it aside to process. He made himself coffee, started cooking some dinner on the off chance that either Jim or Joanna would be interested in eating it later.
His PADD beeped.
"No match found," it said. Leonard gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to throw it across the room.
"Cross-check the name Esther Henson against all files relating to Commodore James Tiberius Kirk or Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy," he said again. The PADD returned it's results much fast that time.
"No match found," it said. Leonard guessed it would have been a long shot anyway. He sagged against the couch. Whoever it was, whatever it was, it wasn't going to be solved that easily. He wondered if Samarra would still remember him…
