Author's Note: Thank you for your comments last chapter! I have to confess that I really thought this story would be more fluff than angst. Alas, it's about equal.

Diamondblue4 and Junker5 - I really can't say thank you enough for the time and effort you've spent helping me with the story (and others!). I feel so blessed.

The chapter is picking up right where we left off last time. I hope you enjoy this next installment!


oOo

Chapter Seven

What Shall I Do (When Your Mind's Made Up)

oOo

Leonard's face falls as he reads in the silence of Commodore Harris's office. Spock straightens his spine as he waits, his back stiffening as if it was braced by a sturdy rod rather than his illogical feelings of fear. Sitting is uncomfortable. Waiting is irksome. He feels like years have passed, or an indeterminant amount of time. In truth, only seconds have passed. Yet, he cannot bear the suffocating anticipation of the unknown that is dangling before him.

His features schooled, Harris crosses his arms and watches Leonard. He's no less relaxed than any of them, tension only notable by the clenched jaw. Whatever Leonard is reading, the commodore must find it appalling.

It is difficult to watch Leonard slip into a state of shock, whose steadiness of hand is law on the ship. The doctor's expression is frozen soon after he finishes reading the document, his fingers slipping from the device he held on his lap. Spock wordlessly reaches over and takes the device from him. Leonard barely notices what he has done.

As Leonard stares down at his hands in a numbed state beside him, Spock reads the same document, signed by both Jim and Admiral Whitcliffe.

His heart aches and throbs in his side like it did when his mother died. When his planet was destroyed. When Jim died. He is stunned by the realization that they—that Jim—may never be free from what had transpired after the Vengeance had crashed. He had hoped they already were, years having passed since Jim had breathed his last and then his first. Years into the five-year mission. Long in the black, far from the cryotubes.

More than Krall's, Marcus's and Harrison's fingerprints are on the Enterprise crew and her captain. Even so, he will not be deterred. Even though he was sure this was blackmail, he will do all that he can to sever the ball and chain once and for all.

"This is unacceptable," Spock says with fire in his voice. He looks up and stares at Harris. "And amoral."

"It's acceptable to a number of people," Harris says calmly. "Including Admiral Whitcliffe, who, in light of the situation and his responsibilities, defines amoral a bit differently than you."

Is Whitcliffe the reincarnation of Marcus?

If only the device he was holding was a sheet of paper. He would crush it. He has no qualms in destroying this contract. Its very essence.

It is worthless in his eyes.

Pointless...

...and a truth which brings staggering pain.

"And you?" Spock asks.

Harris's eyes do not waver, reflecting his control.

His respect for the commodore rises despite his numerous misgivings.

"I cannot speak of my thoughts on the matter, at least not yet," Harris says. "I'm under orders to first discuss this contract with you."

"I am distressed by numerous aspects of this…" Blackmail, "document, but I must first ask...why here? Why Yorktown? Why now?" he asks. "If they wished to use the Captain as a test subject and glean from his regression and regressed state all that they can to achieve their goal, why not transport him to their own facility where he can be properly observed? Where they can acquire data efficiently? It appeared to be an attempt on his life—not an abhorrent experiment."

Harris grimaces. "I will answer your questions, but only if Doctor McCoy is ready to listen."

Spock forces himself to look over at Leonard, who has yet to speak. Face pale, the doctor slowly blinks and nods. His hands are unsteady like they had been after crashing on Altamid, before he'd saved his life.

"I-I'm...fine now," he says with a harsh swallow, his drawl thickening. "Please, enlighten us."

Harris eyes them both carefully, his gaze resting on Spock before he continues. "Very well. You are correct in assuming that this was an attempt on his life. It was."

Leonard blinks again. "W-What?"

"Explain," Spock states firmly.

"It was also a clear, premeditated action to limit your Captain."

It was both? Alarmed, Spock exchanges a glance with Leonard. Neither of them had expected Jim to have signed a contract, but neither had they anticipated an attempt on Jim's life.

"That doesn't...doesn't make sense," Leonard says, brow furrowing. "What does one have to do with the other? You can't try to kill someone—and deage them at the same time."

"You can...if you require a fail safe," Spock determines.

Harris's brows rise. "Yes, Mister Spock. You are, again, correct in this case."

"So it was or wasn't Section 31?" Leonard asks flatly. "We are familiar with their penchant for experimentation and manipulation. Not premeditated murder. Only mass murder." He scowls and grabs the PADD from Spock's hands, standing abruptly. "This is shit," he growls, shoving the device towards Harris. "If you know anything about what happened to Jim—and I'm pretty sure now you do—or what happened to his crew when Marcus threatened to kill us all, you must know that. If you know anything about Section 31, you're an idiot if you think that a signed document would stop them from doing anything that they really wanted to do."

Harris stares evenly at him, but does not take the device or the bait. "Doctor McCoy, I'll start at the beginning if you sit down and refrain from calling me names."

Leonard's upper lip curls into a snarl. "It's shi—"

"I know what it is," Harris interrupts sharply. "And I'll do all that I can to make this easier for you, if you let me do my job."

Leonard allows the device to drop on the desk, but doesn't move.

"Section 31 was not shut down as Starfleet wanted you to believe. It was shifted and sorted, remixed, if you will. Obviously, since Marcus was no longer its head, it was necessary to find someone responsible enough to lead it."

"Whitcliffe stepped up to the plate," Leonard says, scowling.

Spock had interacted little with the admiral, but from what he had seen from afar indicated that Whitcliffe was well-respected, fluent in numerous languages, and highly intelligent. He was polished. Perhaps...too polished.

"Yes," Harris concurs. "Over the past few years, under his discrete direction, they've been developing a better way to keep the augments."

"Better?" Leonard guffaws. "Making them children is an acceptable standard these days?"

"Bottom line, Doctor McCoy, High Command believes it is a necessary manipulation. Vital to our security," Harris says. "Not even a year after Marcus, well after your captain's run in with the Klingons, Section 31 no longer believed they were safely storing the augments, or even ridding the Federation of a possible threat. We do have enemies who would use them against us."

"So instead of killing, like Marcus, they stoop just as low?" Leonard counters.

Harris hesitates. "They looked at the bigger picture. It was seen by some as actually offering the augments a life."

"A life in which they have no choice," Spock says softly.

"Is this you talking—or them, Commodore Harris?" Leonard asks quietly.

"I am merely the go-between while they are taking care of matters at HQ."

"You are, as they say, 'softening the blow,'" Spock determines.

"If that's how you want to put it, yes." Harris nods. "But you should understand that Hugh Command has been split down the middle in this decision. Age regression is the lesser of the evils that they discussed."

"And being lesser makes it right?" Leonard asks, sinking back into his seat.

"No," Harris says. "It makes it horribly wrong." He stands and returns to his desk, taking a seat behind it. "Do you recall Maureen and Jasper Hart?"

They know them well. Or had known.

"Yes," Spock says, exchanging a look with Leonard. "They were siblings."

The lieutenants had been two of their best security officers, and Jim had often assigned them to the away teams. Jasper Hart had a habit of returning injured. When not on duty, Nyota sometimes met for drinks with Maureen.

One of the siblings had recently lost his life.

"Lieutenant Jasper Hart perished during Krall's attack on the Enterprise," Spock says.

"Yes, he did," Harris replies somberly. "Which left only one Section 31 operative under your captain's command."

Leonard sucks in a breath. "Operatives? They've been watching us? Jim?"

Spock's eyes narrow. It is not hard to fit the pieces together. "Maureen. She is the one responsible for Jim's near-death. His regressed state."

Harris leans forward, looking him in the eye. "The Harts had been ordered to test the formula on Jim without him knowing, and to watch from afar."

"Why not in a lab?" Leonard asks, frowning.

"As you might recall," Harris begins slowly, "Touch telepathy stopped your Captain from regressing any further."

"Because my telepathy ceased his emotional outburst?" Spock asks.

"Yes," Harris concurs.

"How?"

"As you know, the brain is an intricate part of us. Emotion, various brain activities, can all contribute to the regression itself."

Leonard shakes his head. "You're saying that his distress—his terror—exacerbated whatever it is that changed him? And Spock stopped it?"

"Yes."

"Then he can stop it again," Leonard insists. "He can reverse—"

"No," Harris interrupts softly, destroying the hope on Leonard's face. "Telepathy cannot reverse the process; only stop it. The formula is woven into your Captain's DNA, Doctor McCoy."

"Are you sure?" Leonard asks tightly.

"Section 31 has already confessed it had been ill-prepared for such...results. They'd been working to cause a regression in smaller increments, of months, or of one to five years. Not twenty, given the ramifications of possibly experiencing previous trauma all over again."

"Like Jim?"

"Like Jim," Harris says softly.

Leonard looks down at his hands, his head sagging in defeat. "Don't you tell me that there's no cure," he pleads hoarsely. "I still don't understand why they just didn't take Jim to a lab. Why let this happen here? In his quarters?"

"In order to properly test it, they required an element of surprise," Harris says. "He could not know beforehand, since the formula is sensitive to brain activity. Krall's unexpected attack changed things, forced them to delay their plans," he continues. "However, after her brother's passing, Maureen took matters in her own hands. She wanted revenge and increased the dosage in your captain's drink."

"Jim is not responsible for her brother's death," Spock says.

"We know that to be true, but she doesn't want to accept it."

"Where is she? Running free, I suppose?" Leonard asks sarcastically, his eyes flashing with anger. "While an innocent, scared child—who was once four but who is now three—hugs his bunny to his chest in sickbay?"

Harris looks at him with a pained expression. "No, Doctor McCoy. She is not running free. We've apprehended her as of last night. She is in custody awaiting a psychological evaluation. Once that is done, she will be transported to HQ."

"Let me guess," Leonard says bitterly. "She's pleading insanity?"

"They will prosecute her?" Spock asks at the same time.

"Yes, they will prosecute her. But she is...unwell," Harris says quietly. "Grieving."

"Well, so are we," Leonard snaps.

"Your captain willingly signed," Harris points out.

"He didn't have a damn clue as to what they were going to do," Leonard snaps, refraining from also stating his suspicions that Jim had been depressed right under his nose for this to happen. "And they didn't have to tell him, either. They used us to get to him."

"He was blackmailed," Spock says, his chest tightening with the implications.

Harris sits back in his chair, nodding in acknowledgement. "Section 31 needed Captain Kirk in order to resolve a matter of security. Your serum, Doctor McCoy, brought a dead man back to life, returned him to full health. A frightening miracle. I say this not to hurt you, but in order to explain that Jim knew they were going to use his body in one form or another in the future. Yet, he willingly signed for your sake."

"And how the hell would you know that?" Leonard argues.

"Because I informed Admiral Archer of recent events last night, and he unveiled Section 31's actions. He explained their intentions, which were to prosecute you from the beginning, take away your medical license, and implicate many of the crew as well," Harris admits. "I approached Archer before your time was up, requiring you to spill Jim's secrets for the sake of the investigation. I couldn't wait another twenty-four hours. I've seen enough over the years to know that something wasn't right."

"He knew?" Leonard says, blinking. "Archer knew? And didn't do a damn thing?"

"Whitcliffe has more power than a man of his age does, quite frankly," Harris explains, eyes sadly drawn. "A new wave of officers have taken over HQ since he retired; there wasn't anything he could do but try to talk them out of it. Or delay the experiment, which he did accomplish on Jim's behalf. But he had no idea it was going to happen this very week."

"Will they need Jim to complete their observations?" Spock asks quietly.

Leonard's face falls for a second time. "Jesus, Spock. Don't even suggest it," he whispers.

"No," Harris says swiftly, folding his hands together.

Spock fears he misheard. "Commodore, it is illogical for them to leave Jim here, as their experiment has succeeded beyond their expectations and it is now time to reverse the process."

"Let me make it as clear to you as possible. They don't want him," Harris says in a low voice. "Because they can't help him."

Leonard laughs bitterly, a hollow sound that echoes in Spock's ears. "They don't want to own up to their fuck-up, you mean. Don't want it starin' them in the face."

Harris drops his head in his hands, his fingers digging into his scalp.

Spock hears his shortness of breath without straining and frowns at the sudden and uncharacteristic response. "Commodore?"

Harris's hands fall as he lifts his head. His eyes are wet. "They acknowledge their error—and Hart's deception and criminal act—but from this point on, they've—"

"Who is they?" Leonard growls. "Section 31? Archer?"

"Whitcliffe," Harris says, the name tumbling from his lips as a hiss. "Archer is not a part of it. Whitcliffe's made it clear that their only obligation is to ensure that Jimmy Kirk is properly cared for."

Leonard sucks in a sharp breath. "Only obligation? I beg to differ."

"What are you implying?" Spock asks.

Harris's mouth tightens, fine lines appearing around the corners. "If you, with the assistance of our best scientists here at the base, cannot find a way to reverse the regression within two week's time, it's likely that Jimmy will be returned to his mother."

oOo

Leonard's brain wants to shut down at the exact moment that 'Jimmy's mother' enters the picture.

He wants to ignore the very possibility of Winona marching in and stealing Jim away from him, but the facts are staring him in the face.

He wants to grow numb from the pain already filling the empty place where Jim once resided, his hopes and dreams bleeding from him like blood from an open wound.

Reality won't let him; neither will his heart. He will fight for Jim, even if it costs him his life. Because that is what Jim would do if their places were switched. He will do no less.

"No," he says darkly, standing. He glares at Harris with all the vehemence he can muster. "He stays with us. End of story."

"They've given you two weeks," Harris says. "I suggest you take it."

"He is correct, Doctor," Spock agrees. "It is a reasonable request."

Leonard huffs a breath, throwing him a look. "He's being reasonable? Telling us to give in?"

"It is likely that they will shorten the allotted time if we oppose it."

"This is Jim, Spock," Leonard stresses. "Jim. He belongs with us."

"He is a toddler, Doctor McCoy, who only recalls his mother. Not his rank. Not his first officer." Spock hesitates. "Not even his chief medical officer."

His pain threatens to choke him. "So you're going along with this, then?" he breathes out, voice quivering like he's the emotional mess that he's trying so hard to avoid. "Is that it?"

"I am not," Spock says, eyes flickering with hurt. "I am merely pointing out that he is not Jim as we know him. He is a child in need of nurturing, of protection. We would do well to cooperate in hopes that they will listen when we suggest an alternative."

Jimmy's small, terrified face flashes through his mind. "You don't know what she was like, Spock," he says harshly. "What she's still like. Her and her goddamned brother. Neither of you do." He looks at Harris, gritting his teeth as he asks, "Are we to speak with Whitcliffe later, then?"

Harris blinks at his abrupt question, an odd expression on his face. "Yes, a conference call along with Admiral Archer and Commodore Paris." He hesitates and peers up at Leonard, eyes teeming with worry. "What was Kirk's childhood like?"

"You saw the bruises," Leonard tersely reminds him, recalling the way Harris had come into the bedroom when he was examining Jim. "You figure it out."

He thinks of the wrist he'd fixed, the bruises on Jimmy's hip, the reading he knew was coming later today. And if not today, then tomorrow or the next day or the next day or the next day—and spins on his heel.

"Doctor McCoy, please—"

But he's around the corner, Harris's voice already fading. The knots in his stomach grow with each step until he's hunched over and sick with guilt. This was his fault. He'd done this to Jim.

He'd done this to Jim.

He makes it to the bathroom just in time. He wipes his mouth after he loses his breakfast, breathing in shakily. He should go back, ask for all of the reports Section 31 has on this procedure, and apologize to Harris. Who'd no doubt been ordered to soften the blow. Who'd been placed in an untenable situation, himself. Who, other than Archer and hopefully Paris, was probably their only ally.

With a sigh, he exits the stall, leaning on the door as he does so.

He isn't surprised to see Spock standing before him, hands clasped behind his back as if it were just another day in Starfleet. But his expression reminds him of Harris's. Filled with a distinct concern.

"You can do nothing for Jimmy if you are unable to retain your food—and therefore keep your strength," Spock asserts.

"Ya think?" Leonard says, unable to stop the sarcasm. "I did this to him, Spock. Me."

Spock rolls his shoulders. "He is alive because of you, Doctor McCoy."

He shakes his head, biting his tongue to keep himself from uttering another sarcastic remark.

"I informed the commodore that the captain's childhood...was less than desirable," Spock continues.

"Well, that's putting it lightly," Leonard mutters.

He leans over the sink, grimacing at the sour taste in his mouth as he rinses.

They need to get back to Jimmy. He needs to pull himself together, stop blaming himself, and find the damn cure. He needs to comfort Jimmy when he's scared, frightened in this strange place. Spend time with him—before they try and take him away—just in case.

He needs to be two places at once.

Spock steps behind him. "As I am not fully aware of the events in the captain's youth, I could not make any other statement."

It's a question, a plea for more. Leonard straightens and looks up in the mirror. Spock's eyes beg for more of the truth. Jim's history, which he had sworn to protect, both professionally and as a friend. Especially as a friend.

But the times had changed. For Jim's sake, he must think about revealing his sordid past, after all. He sighs, and bends down over the sink for a second time. He rinses his mouth again before shutting the water off.

After drying his hands with a towel and his mouth with his sleeve, he comes face-to-face with Spock and nods. "Fine. But not here."

"And, Commodore Harris?" Spock asks slowly.

Leonard can't spill it all to them. Not yet. Definitely not Tarsus. He'd wait, cross that bridge when they come to it.

"What did you mean by alternative?" he asks.

"At this time, I am uncertain," Spock admits. "However, I find myself believing that there is another answer other than Commander Kirk, who has not made an attempt to be a part of her son's adult life as a captain of his own ship, except for when he calls her on his birthday."

Leonard is gratified that Spock has made that correlation without much help from him. It isn't like Jim even speaks of Winona—or his birthday. Perhaps Jim had mentioned it to him at his birthday party. Or, and he wouldn't fault him for it, he'd eavesdropped.

"You believe in no-win scenarios now, huh?" he remarks with a humorless laugh.

"We are his crew. We are one," Spock says softly.

He never expected his eyes to sting with unshed tears but they did. How did he ever believe that Spock had no feelings? Especially when it came to Jim? "A team?"

"His family. We can be no less."

Leonard checks the chronometer on the wall. "We can talk more once we're in the lab. We don't have time for talking here, Spock, especially if there's a conference call later on."

Spock frowns. "And who will stay with Jimmy? He should not be left alone."

Technically, Jim isn't alone, if one counts the nurses bustling around him. But he understands what he means and nods. "One or two of the bridge crew. The others—"

"Should remain ever observant and fully prepared," Spock interjects harshly. "I cannot help but question Section 31's intentions towards Jimmy."

His stomach flips. "You mean you don't believe what they told Harris? About the Harts? Or what they decided about Winona?"

"All of it. Unfortunately, we cannot tell the difference between their truth and their lies." Spock pauses. "We are almost as vulnerable as our captain. Commodore Harris, included."

The way they'd used Harris to inform them of Section 31's actions was cruel. From what he'd observed, despite being security for years, the man wore his heart on his sleeve most of the time.

"In other words, you smell something fishy," Leonard clarifies aloud.

"Affirmative."

"For once, I have to agree," he says with a sigh.

oOo

Before returning to their work in the lab or to Jimmy and his 'house,' they talk.

In the end, they decide Jaylah and Nyota would spend time with Jimmy and keep him company and entertained, with Christine taking twelve-hours shifts that overlapped with their hours. They'd also ask Sulu, if he could bear to be apart from his husband and child for the majority of the next two weeks. That he has a young daughter of his own makes him the perfect choice.

Leonard also reveals the stories that Jim has tried so hard to forget and move past. The almost daily abuse when Winona was off planet, and the abuse that happened under her nose. He almost can't bear to mention what type of abuse, but does; his words drive a knife into his heart as he speaks them. He can't look at Spock, especially when he mentions that the legal system had already failed Jim, many years prior. He reveals that Frank is a free man, living in Jim's childhood home. And infers that even if Winona doesn't plan to return to Riverside with Jimmy, the threat of Frank is the same as when Jimmy was a child more than two decades ago, simply because of her past history as a negligent mother.

Nothing has really changed, with her or her brother.

Spock is horrified, to say the least. He turns pale, or as pale as a Vulcan could.

While Leonard decides to see Jimmy before losing himself in tests, he can already see that Spock has no plans to accompany him.

"I am emotionally compromised. I must...remain here," Spock says hoarsely. "To m-meditate. To work. It is my duty."

"I understand," Leonard says.

He can't blame him for staying. Jim's childhood is more horrid than one can possibly imagine—or want to imagine.

"I'll be back shortly," he says.

Spock, his back turned to him, stiffly nods. "If it is agreeable, I will also inform Harris—"

"Of Jim's past?"

"Yes," Spock whispers.

"You don't have to do that," he counters, though he's relieved he's offered.

Spock's head shifts slightly, and his shoulders straighten. "Neither do you, Doctor," he says.

Silence plays in the room, deafening.

"Alright," Leonard says again when he finds his voice. "Thank you."

He leaves the lab and walks into Jimmy's woodland house, stopping short when he spies the small child dashing to the corner to play a holographic game on the wall.

Christine stands beside Jimmy now, but looks up at Leonard and smiles. "He's feeling better."

"I see that," Leonard says.

Now that Jimmy is out of his bed, his legs and feet peeking out from the gown, his malnourished state is quite obvious. But he also looks like a child with a bundle of energy despite his illness and injuries.

She gently strokes Jimmy's head as he presses buttons on the wall, trying to catch the creatures that pop out of their burrows.

"I hope you don't mind, Doctor McCoy," she murmurs, mistaking his silence for displeasure. "His fever is down, and he was—"

"It's fine, Chris," he says swiftly. "It's fine. I'm just…"

She studies him like his mother would. This time, reading behind his silence correctly. "Oh, no," she says softly.

He shakes his head, though Jimmy hasn't even noticed he is there yet. "Later, Chris."

Much later.

How are they going to tell the crew? And Jaylah? Would she understand the mess they were in? Would it be too traumatic for her to hear after all that she's been through?

Two arms suddenly wrap around his legs.

Startled, he looks down to see a pair of clear blue eyes intently staring up at him. His heart nearly drops at the relief reflected from them. He and Jimmy had a rough start at the beginning. He hadn't expected the child to warm up to him so quickly, despite their history as adults.

"Well, hello there," Leonard says softly.

"Doctor Coy, you came back," Jimmy says in a small voice.

The understanding slowly dawns that he is comparing him to the adults in his young life who had constantly failed him; that even one day, Hoshi had left. "I said I would, didn't' I?"

"Uh-huh," Jimmy says, squeezing him.

The boy doesn't let go.

Leonard exchanges a look with Christine. He doesn't have the heart to pry the arms from his legs, disappointing him, but he can't stay long.

Christine kneels beside the boy and rests a hand on his shoulder. "Jimmy, I'm sure you've worked up an appetite by now. Are you ready for lunch?" she asks.

He presses his head against Leonard's knees as if to hide, vigorously shaking his head.

"Do you mean I'll have to eat the milkshake all by myself?" Leonard asks.

He planned on saving the milkshake for later, but at this point, he'd let Jimmy eat them all day to get something in his stomach.

"A milkshake?" Jimmy slowly brings his eyes up. "Reelwy?"

"Can't think of anything better," he drawls.

"Can I eat by my fwends?" Jimmy whispers, his tiny hands clenching the fabric of Leonard's pant legs.

He looks at Christine in question. She nods her head towards the direction of a small table where even smaller chairs were placed and Bunny sat alone. Unless Jim's imaginary friends were there, of course, and then Bunny wasn't alone.

He'd be cramped, lucky if his knees would actually fit under the table, but to sit there for a few minutes with this amazing child, before the next two weeks consume him, it would be worth any discomfort.

He picks him up and cradles him in his arms for a moment, time he doesn't have to spare, feeling as if he'd never held anything so precious and innocent in his entire life.

"You bet," he says.

And because Jimmy is looking up at him for even more confirmation, for the love he'd never had as a child—he gives him a smile.

oOo

Lukin Harris has always hated his name. It couldn't have been Luke, or even Lukas. His mother had had to pick two family names and stick them together as if they'd belonged that way.

Staring out the window in thought, he takes a break from signing dozens of reports and from speaking with Archer and Whitcliffe as Starfleet tries to clear up the Kirk mess on their end. He thinks it's strange that his last name bears a curious resemblance to...Harrison.

Strange, but not that odd. There's been far worse coincidences, like the fact that his life had unraveled as soon as he'd been 'demoted' for appearances sake. It had only been pure luck that his wife hadn't divorced him. What had changed her mind, he still doesn't know.

"Commodore Harris?" his secretary says over the intercom. "Your wife is here to see you."

Speaking of coincidences…

Lukin returns to his desk, marveling at how nervous he actually is to see her, a woman whose eyes had once sparkled like the stars at the mere sight of him.

"Send her in," he says, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"Yes, sir," his secretary replies.

He adjusts the collar of his uniform and plasters on the smile he's always worn for her and their children since coming here to Yorktown.

She comes through the doorway, stopping when their eyes meet.

"Don't do that, Lukin," Leesa admonishes softly, the Southern drawl she so tried to hide here reappearing in her speech. "Not for my sake."

He'd mistake her request for a selfish one, except she is already crying. Has tears in her eyes. An uncharacteristic smudge of mascara on her left cheek. His fake smile falters.

"Please," she pleads

He wipes it from his face altogether and swallows. "Is something wrong?" he asks. "With you? The kids?"

"Does something have to be wrong for me to visit you?"

He blinks and chooses silence over starting an argument.

She blushes and brings her hand up to her mouth. Her wedding ring glints in the light. "I'm sorry," she says, words muffled. "Don't answer that."

He nods and looks down at his desk. He needs to aid Spock and McCoy in whatever way he can, including looking at Jimmy's future needs from all angles. He agrees with Spock and McCoy. Under no circumstances could Jimmy be returned to his mother. If she'd been oblivious to the abuse her son had suffered then, it's likely that she'd be oblivious now.

He's far from being the perfect father, but Commander Kirk's past negligence and disregard for Jim's welfare as a child is shocking.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispers. "Why was I so...so stupid?"

He looks up in surprise. "Leesa..."

She shakes her head. "I should've known you'd never do anything to jeopardize your place in Starfleet, not after you worked so hard to get there."

"I couldn't tell you," he says, throat almost too dry for him to speak.

She cocks her head, still too far away. "I know," she says quietly. "Please...forgive me?"

He nods. "Yes, of course."

She finally walks towards him, her hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, Lukin."

Once she's standing before him, he takes her by the hand, holding it between the two of his. He can't think of a time in recent years that they'd done this. Just...be.

"We all make mistakes," he says ruefully. "Mine was…"

His voice fades as he realizes that he can't tell her his mistake because it's confidential.

She kisses his cheek. "You don't have to tell me. I've talked with Admiral Archer."

He stiffens, unsure what to make of that. "What? He never said anything to me."

"He contacted me to explain things," she says, looking at him apologetically. "Well, some things. I have a better idea of what you've been doing all this time here as head of security. I also know that whatever it is that has brought you out of hiding is too serious for me to be standing here, wasting your time."

"You never waste my time," he says, shaking his head. He tries to smile. "Never."

"I should go," she whispers, eyes tracing his face like she used to when they were newlyweds. He squeezes her hand, wishing she could stay. "You have a lot on your mind, Commodore."

His heart skips a beat hearing her speak his rank. He nods and answers honestly. "I do," he says. "But I'll be home tonight."

His mind is teeming with information, but not enough of it. Like McCoy, like Spock, he is on a need-to-know basis...

"Okay," she says softly, happiness once again blooming in her eyes. "If you're not, I'll understand."

...and the question that had been burning a hole in his pocket is this—

— if Kirk had signed this document, after significant time had passed since his death, what was the likelihood that he'd been forced to sign another contract years ago, soon after he'd been revived?

The answer comes to him quietly after he kisses Leesa goodbye and before he meets with Paris.

There is no doubt in his mind.

The likelihood?

Astronomical.


Author's Note: Yes, another cliffhanger-ish ending. Don't throw tribbles at me!

I'll be updating And If I Stand next week...so Chapter 8 of THIS story will in a week or two (I HOPE!). Writing feels very inspired these days, so I can't imagine that there'll be a long wait like before. Thanks again for reading and commenting if you do that, too. :)