Okay, we are finally here! Sam and Jim (and Hoshi!) unite. Please be warned, this is where things start to get nasty. There will be death, there will be trauma, there will be bad language and blood and eventually Bones' killer eyebrows.

I've been asked for a timeline for this universe and where things like Tarsus fit in, so here it is roughly. Keep in mind that while I am following nu!canon for most things, there's some serious embellishment going on and lots of nabbing from tos. Things like Tarsus IV (and even Frank if we discount deleted scenes) are not nu!canon, but any excuse to whump on Jim is a good excuse.

2233 Jim is born. Yay! Sam is 4. George Kirk dies. Winona pulls a John Winchester.

2243 Winona is killed. Jim and Sam go to live with her brother Frank (no one likes Frank).

2244 Sam runs away from home. This is the last we'll see of him for a while.

2244 Jim drives a chevy off a cliff. In Iowa, where there are lots of cliffs.

2246 Frank goes to jail. Jim goes to Tarsus IV. We all know how well that goes.

2247 Jim returns to earth. Stays with Hoshi Sato for three months.

2255 Jim gets very drunk, hits on Uhura and joins Starfleet. From here on things follow nu!canon.

2258 Jim takes Uhura to a symposium which is then gatecrashed by Sam and his merry band of men.

2259 Khan. Still not ready to talk about it.

Final note: I am not siding for or against corporal punishment when dealing with children. Total neutral ground here. Jim, however, was raised by a man who thought nothing of smacking him around when he stepped out of line, so his view of the appropriate punishment of children is a little off center.

Actually no. Final note is this: oh dear god I am so nervous about this part! I hope you like it! Did I mention I am nervous?

Jim was dumped not so gently down onto the ground and winced as a high-pitched voice began screaming profanity in his ear. The thin arms belonging to the screamer wrapped themselves around him in what would probably have been a comforting gesture if he weren't bleeding internally, so he guessed the curses weren't aimed at him.

That would be a first. People liked to scream things at him for some reason. As if volume dictated the level of attention he paid.

It didn't. His PT instructor had learned that the hard way. The buzz cut sporting grizzly bear that had run his cadre's physical training had picked on Jim relentlessly, even more so once he learned that the worse people treated him, the more likely Jim would exceed their expectations just to piss them off. He'd made Jim his TA in the second year and they'd gone drinking once a month after class. The miserable bastard still maintained that Jim was a horrible little shit that would never amount to anything, but he'd been the first to back Jim up when he'd stepped into the SRM with his Captain's stars and the whole room had fallen deadly silent. They kept in touch via monosyllabic comms every once in a while and until recently, Jim had figured he was the next best thing he had to a friend after Bones.

If anything Jim figured his ears had been trained to withstand pretty much anything by now.

Apparently not.

He cringed and turned his head away from the sound. Small hands cupped his cheeks and petted his hair and he wondered briefly if Uhura was back. She could probably make his ears bleed if she tried.

But the voice that slowly started to soften was older, richer, and laced with touches of countless accents and dialects. It was a voice unique in Jim's experience, and it was a voice he loved.

He blinked open his eyes and looked up into Hoshi Sato's furious face.

Jim hoped to god that look wasn't for him. He valued his continued existence. Hell, even as an angry teenager he'd done his best not to piss her off. It hadn't always worked – even Jim would admit he had not been a nice person at fourteen – but he'd managed to evade her true ire.

Hoshi-san had never hit him, even when he'd deserved it. Especially when he deserved it, actually. He'd pulled some real shitty stunts while she'd looked after him and she'd never retaliated once. It was strange to see her now, fists balled and utter fury in her eyes.

"Are you out of your minds?" She screamed over Jim's head. "What the hell did you do to him?"

Jim rolled his head sideways and finally got a good glimpse of the three who had played amateur surgeon with his insides. Terrorists should really have some kind of facial tattoo because they all looked completely normal. One of them, the big one who had carried Jim up from the basement, had stood in line next to him when he'd fetched Uhura and Hoshi-san their drinks.

He kicked himself. He should have spotted them then.

The woman looked at them both scornfully. She was middle aged and might have been pretty if her expression hadn't been so hateful. "We saved his life."

"I'm fine." Jim croaked before Sato could continue her tirade and get them both killed.

"You be quiet." Sato scolded him.

Jim obediently went mute.

Instead of trying to defend himself, he studied the room they were in.

He and Sato were on the floor in the middle of what looked to be one of the conference rooms. A large, circular table surrounded them, pilled with tech, weapons, and what Jim recognized as T119Sonic Grenades. All in all, some serious firepower, and a sizeable amount of kit.

He reassessed the likelihood that this was a small attack of opportunity and the seriousness grew.

Behind Sato knelt a woman Jim recognized from the Academy. Commander Nixon had taught him Klingon in his first semester before he'd tested out of her class to free up room for advanced diplomatic training. She was a speaker at the conference and if Jim's memory was correct, she had never really stepped foot outside of the Academy. An academic like Sato, but one who was happy to keep her feet on the ground and teach. Her training barely kept her fear in check.

Jim didn't bother to try glance reassuringly in her direction. He knew he looked a mess.

Instead he continued his observation as Sato patted him gingerly down.

Aside from the three who had found him, there was another large man he thought he heard someone address as Joxer, a terrifying looking woman with short hair and a more muscles than Jim, and a sixth figure standing on the far side of the room. Jim couldn't make him out at all.

Comms occasionally fired to life, suggesting that there were at least three more people out there. He'd take a guess at nine – each contact identified themselves as a separate unit of designation, and since the one who had found him had three members, he hazarded a guess at fifteen in total, Joxer and Mystery Man included.

Enough to be a significant problem, even if he wasn't held together by what was probably some weird cosmic glue.

He needed to think his way thought this. Clarity was fleeting, but he forced his brain to work with the facts it had.

And while he did that, he wriggled in Sato's lap.

To anyone watching, he looked like he was simply protesting her attempts to check him over. He didn't need to fake his sounds of pain as he moved, but they helped sell the illusion as he twisted his arm as far as he could and thumbed the comm. on in his pocket.

At best, the Enterprise would get a word for word run down of everything that unfolded. At worst, they'd at least be able to track his location.

He needed his crew. He needed Bones to growl at him and maybe do something about his broken head, and he needed Spock to nerve pinch like the Vulcan ninja he secretly was.

If he couldn't have that, he'd settle for Sulu decapitating the lot of them.

The man Jim thought was called Joxer signaled to the woman standing closest to them. Her phaser rifle was aimed at Sato. "Move." She ordered.

"Fuck off." Sato snapped, reminding Jim once again why he adored her as much as he did. "Cowards, the lot of you."

"Maybe." Joxer nodded calmly. "But we are cowards with a cause. Your Federation has failed to facilitate our demands and a message must be sent. Your deaths will have purpose."

"Glad to hear it." Sato fumed. "But you'll have to pull him out of my dead hands if you think I'm going to let you hurt him."

Jim shook his head and swallowed enough to speak. "Don't."

Damnit, he was the ranking officer in the room. This was his job. He just…his body wasn't listening to him and his head and ideas of its own.

"What exactly are your demands?" Jim managed, addressing the man who seemed to control the room.

To Jim's surprise, Joxer's expression softened. "We have no intention of harming you, James Kirk."

"And why the hell not?" Jim demanded. "You just threatened two members of Starfleet, why not three?" Then, as an after thought, "Good job on that, by the way." He waved a weak hand down to indicate the generally battered state of his body.

Joxer winced. "I apologize."

Jim blinked. That was new. "Well you could make it up to me by maybe not murdering people."

"That is not my decision to make."

"Be quiet, Jimmy." Sato tried to pull him down again and failed. Responsibility for both her and Nixon, as well as the countless other innocent people being held hostage made Jim stronger than he had felt in hours.

"Then let me talk to the guy in charge."

"You will." Joxer promised. "Soon enough. But now –" he signaled again, and this time the woman was joined by the rest of her unit. Jim was jerked roughly out of Sato's arms and dumped back on the ground.

Panic the likes of which he hadn't felt in years rose inside as control of the situation slipped through his fingers.

"No! Don't do this! Whatever you want, there is a better way of getting it I swear. Just tell me and I'll help you." But Sato was dragged away from him, a heavy boot pushing down on his stomach keeping him from struggling up after her.

He was helpless again, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her pale, serious face. "It's alright Jimmy." She tried to comfort him. Then she switched to a language that only he could understand and spoke the words that no one had said to him since he was a small child. "You'll be alright, Jimmy. I love you, and you'll be alright."

Tears blurred his eyes and her face distorted. He was suddenly looking at a woman much younger than Sato, her blond hair a twisted tangle at the nape of her neck and her pretty face set with fierce determination. He struggled to get to her as she was forced to her knees, suddenly feeling a lot smaller and weaker than he knew he was. Arms around his middle held his fast no matter how hard he kicked and they tugged at his hair, pulling his head back, making him watch.

Winona Kirk died as defiantly as she had lived, only a slight smile meant for Jim gracing her lips as the phaser fired and ended her life.

Hoshi-san gave him more. She repeated her words again and again. Calm and soothing as if it were Jim who was being made to kneel, a phaser at his head.

He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe.

He screamed for her like he had screamed for his mom and it still made no difference.

Beside Sato, tears streamed down Nixon's face. They killed her first.

She fell gracelessly to the ground and Jim swore he'd kill them all. They were cowards, all of them. Murdering innocent women for what? What could possibly be worth anyone's life?

Joxer moved to Sato, his phaser aimed at the back of her head.

"Please." Jim begged. "Please don't do this."

Then suddenly the shadowy figure at the back of the room spurred forwards. He crossed the room with long, graceful strides and dropped down at Jim's side.

Light hit the profile of his face and Jim's jaw dropped open in shock.

"Sam?"

It had been thirteen years since he had seen his brother. Eighteen months since Sam had officially been reported dead. But he knew those eyes, could recognize the serious set of his mouth and the spatter of light freckles across his nose.

The world spun entirely on its axis and what little blood Jim hadn't lost already left his head in a rush. He felt sick and cold and had no understanding of what he was seeing or how it was even possible.

"What…Sam what are you doing?"

Sam couldn't be involved with this. Sam couldn't just be standing by and watching this happen. His brother wouldn't do that. It was the head injury. Jim wasn't thinking straight. It had to be.

Sam shoved at the man who kept Jim pinned down and hauled him up into his arms. "I'm sorry Jimmy. I won't make you watch, but this is going to happen."

For all that Jim struggled, Sam was stronger. He curled his hand around the back of Jim's neck and pressed his face against his own chest. Jim could see nothing but blackness, the long missed scent of his brother strong and dizzying as he tried to escape and failed.

Sam's arms tightened around him and he rocked Jim carefully. Then, over his head, he spoke to the men that clearly looked to him for their orders.

"Do it."

The phaser fired and Sam whispered soothingly into Jim's ear.

He didn't hear either.