Disclaimer: I don't own. I don't profit.
Thanks to everyone who is reviewing - you and Notes keep me going. Speaking of Notes, her latest, "The Survivors", is turning into quite the sniffle inducer. I highly recomend it - check it out in my faves.
Tilt
Jim was dreaming. It was the same dream he always had after he got beat up. He was 6 or 7 and Frank, his stepfather, was heaving him against a wall. All the air was blasted out of him, and he could feel the bruises forming along his spine. But suddenly it wasn't him, it was Jimmy Nowak, the little boy who was his son. The son he'd abandoned. Who now lived on Altos 5 with Magda, his mother, and her new husband.
Jerking awake, Jim found himself amid the too familiar beeps and whines of sickbay monitors, his forehead damp with sweat.
Jimmy Nowak's stepfather wasn't Frank, and Jim wasn't his mother - Jim hadn't abandoned Jimmy on purpose, but it took effort to remind himself of that.
Focus. He had to focus.
He took a deep breath and it only hurt a little bit. Mostly his body felt numb, except for the sensation of the prickle of needles in his side beneath the dermoplast. It would be nice if he could tell himself that he'd lived through worse than what had happened on the Romulan ship. He closed his eyes and saw the room, and the sludge. If T'Pring hadn't -
He opened his eyes quickly. One thing being an abused kid gave you was the power of strategic forgetfulness. Most of the time.
Raising his body, he looked around. There were plenty of Vulcan survivors in sickbay, but no T'Pring.
Coming up next to him, Christine said, "You're awake."
"What's the status of the ship?" Jim said.
"We're on the way to New Vulcan along with the Nightingale and Sugihara. Warp 3 because our skirmish with the Romulans damaged the warp drive. Spock's at the helm."
Jim reached for his comm and glanced at the messages. There was an email from Spock that just said, "She requested privacy and quiet; I gave her your quarters."
Bolting upright, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Where do you think you're going?" said Christine.
"To see T'Pring," said Jim. He never got a chance to thank T'Pring, to see if she was alright. Well, of course, she wasn't alright. But he never got a chance to hold her, to tell her things would be alright, or at least better.
"No, you're not," said Christine.
Jim met her eyes. "Come on, Chris," he said very softly. "You know I'd step aside for you."
Her expression softened. Bending down, she pulled a pair of pants and a black undershirt from a drawer by the bed. "They should fit. Your clothes went down the garbage chute."
She pulled the curtain, but Jim was already slipping them on under the gown he wore.
A few minutes later he was clutching his side and standing outside of his door, wavering on his feet and catching his breath. He had no idea what he was going to say.
The thought of Livak touching T'Pring's face made him feel sick, the thought of him defiling her - his sweet, innocent T'Pring.
His stomach coiled in knots, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
But of course she wasn't sweet or innocent; there was steel underneath her exterior. And he'd sort of known that, hadn't he? The way she turned him down in the garden - he'd been in Spock's head; he knew that strange, frightening emotion he felt the morning she tried to bond with him was "Vulcan love." Spock felt it for Uhura. T'Pring felt it for Jim, but she'd turned him away anyway. More than once, really.
Maybe he shouldn't go through that door. Maybe he was pouring salt on old wounds?
Shaking his head, he hit the access code.
The door whooshed open and there she was. She was sitting at his desk, wrapped in his robe - just like after Vulcan fell. It was too large and made her look small and frail. But she wasn't frail. She could turn a man on and slit his throat - and it really shouldn't, but that thought was making him go warm in some really good ways.
And then he blinked, and his eyes went to the holo in front of her. His holo. The one on his desk. His stomach fell. He didn't deserve her love, Vulcan or otherwise.
Her eyes met his. "Dr. McCoy would not let you out of sickbay in your condition."
"No," said Jim, for a moment hoping she would say nothing about the holo - and bizarrely wanting her to say something about it, too.
Obeying his hopes and realizing his fears, her eyes went back to the little boy in the shimmering light. Stroking his glowing cheek, as Jim had on not too few occasions, she said, "Who is he?"
Jim's jaw got tight.
Jim knew his other self's life very well; he'd seen it in the other Spock's mind. That man was greater than Jim had ever thought he'd be. Except for one flaw, one mistake that Jim promised himself he would never make. Little did he know when he made that promise the mistake had already been made. A year before he entered the Academy, Jim met a girl at a bar. She was very sweet, pretty, and tragically stupid. Jim had shamelessly taken advantage of her, telling himself that his birth control injection hadn't completely expired.
"That is my son," he said.
T'Pring regarded the glowing image. "How old is he?"
"About 11," said Jim.
"You did not know about him," said T'Pring, turning the base of the holo in her hands.
That was precisely the moment Jim's heart hit the floor.
Uhura was wrong. Jim never loved T'Pring. He liked her. He liked her a lot; but Jim liked a lot of people. At those words, You did not know, he did love T'Pring. She understood.
She was steel under that soft exterior, but she was also, always, sweet.
"Thank you," he said.
T'Pring looked up at him.
Looking down he said, "Most people just think I am an ass who abandoned them - him and his mom."
Meeting her eyes he said, "Well, I was an ass, and I did abandon them, but I didn't know."
Magda, Jim's son's mother, had tried to tell him. Left him some messages, Jim we have to talk, but never said about what. Jim thought he'd actually been doing her a favor by not responding. It's not like the relationship was going anywhere. He felt magnanimous at the time for not stringing her along just for sex.
Tilting her head, T'Pring said, "Of course I know; I have been in your mind."
Jim laughed low. "Yeah, well maybe you'd have to be...to know that."
She looked down again. "He is beautiful."
Jim's heart actually felt like it was back in his chest, and swelling. Nodding, he stepped up to the desk and sat on it sideways. He felt weak, and it wasn't just love, but he was determined not to show it. "Yeah, he is. Smart, too. He wants nothing to do with me."
T'Pring looked up, and Jim dropped his eyes. This wasn't supposed to be about him.
A sudden thought occurred to him. It made him go cold, made him hopeful and filled him with disgust for himself at the same time. He blinked up at her. "Your bondmate?"
"He lives," said T'Pring.
Jim exhaled. "Oh." Looking away he said, "That is good."
Suddenly feeling very tired, he stood up. His vision went dark for a moment, but closing his eyes he let it pass. Trying to look as nonchalant as possible, he started to make his way over to his couch. The world began to sway and he stopped.
He heard the soft scrape of his chair on carpeting and T'Pring was by his side, her hands carefully on his sleeve.
"You should be in sick bay," she said. "It will take some time for the toxins in the device to work their way out of your system."
"I just need to sit down," said Jim, stepping towards the couch. T'Pring went with him, her arm on his, and he was almost thankful that he was too weak to marvel at her closeness.
As he settled onto the cushions he said, "I came here to check in on you." Lolling his head onto the back of the couch, he motioned for her to sit down beside him. She did, but not too close.
Rolling his head towards her he said, "Thank you, thank you for what you did. You were amazing. I am in awe."
T'Pring said nothing, only stared off in the distance.
Swallowing, Jim said, "Will you be alright?"
"If you are concerned about physical invasion of my person, and the physical consequences thereof, you should know Livak did not succeed in violating me in that way."
Jim squinted. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. But I was more concerned about your emotional well-being."
He reached a hand towards hers but she pulled it away. He stared at where her hand had been. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, T'Pring. Not for deceiving him, and not for killing him."
"I do not feel shame for either."
Brow furrowing, his side starting to ache, Jim said, "What then?"
Not answering him, she said, "I was in his head. I saw what he did to you."
Jim felt himself go cold and heavy. Shuddering, he clenched his fist. "Well, I saw what he did to me, too, so there is no need to discuss it."
"He did it to others," T'Pring said.
Smiling tightly, Jim said, "Yeah, well, I pretty much figured he had experience."
His side burned and he winced. Tightening his jaw, he looked up at the ceiling. His eyes drifted closed for just a minute and there he was 6 again, and there was Frank, but Frank was Spock on the bridge, his hands around Jim's neck.
Opening his eyes, he took a sharp breath. He knew what was bothering her. And how could he not have known immediately? She had no combat training or experience. She was a sweet girl from a loving family who had no idea of what she would become under pressure - what they all became. And she was Vulcan...and that gave her certain abilities other races didn't have.
Staring at the ceiling he whispered, "You can make pain go away. But you can also cause it. You saw what Livak did...and you wanted to hurt him. You wanted to make him feel all the hurt, all the fear, and all the despair he made me - everyone, feel.
"And maybe for a moment you did." Maybe's Livak's lack of control affected her, but just a bit, and just for an instant.
Jim looked over at her, but she would not meet his gaze. Reaching out, he put a hand on her back. He could feel her alien heat through her robe. She did not relax but did not move away.
Gently rubbing her back he said softly, "But you caught yourself, T'Pring. You pulled away. You couldn't go back into his mind, to kill him painlessly and telepathically -"
She looked over at him sharply.
"Yes," he whispered. "I know Vulcans can do that. You didn't trust yourself. Instead you slit his throat, which was a much more peaceful death than he deserved."
Her frame sunk a little. Pulling himself upright and closer to her, he said, "I'm sorry, T'Pring. I'm sorry you had to do that."
His arm slipped around her waist, and he kissed the top of her head. "You're not Livak, T'Pring, you're not. Not at all." Wrapping his arm more tightly, he said, "When the moment came you made a choice, the choice every person in combat has to make. You saw what you could be - and stayed yourself." He kissed the top of her head again. "You're not Livak. You're smart, daring, and cunning, but kind and sweet. You're perfect."
She stayed very rigid and a little part of his brain, one that was very small and rather unused started sounding warning bells. He had his arm wrapped around a Vulcan woman, and this was bound to be misinterpreted. She was bonded. She was an adult - not a child. Vulcan bonds once consummated were difficult to dissolve. The bond affected every part of the mind, even the brainstem. Bonded Vulcan couples were drawn to each other, they called it "The Pull".
She couldn't cheat, even if she wanted to, and for once he wasn't even trying, and he wanted her to know that.
Raising his hands quickly, he fell back against the couch. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to..." But he was too tired to explain. He rubbed his eyes and was staring at Frank again. He opened them and stared at the ceiling.
"You should be in sickbay," T'Pring said.
"Just rest here a moment," said Jim rubbing his eyes. "Stupid nightmares," he mumbled, not sure how it slipped out.
"Lie down," said T'Pring, getting off the couch.
"You won't go?" said Jim, already falling over.
"No," said T'Pring.
"Good," said Jim. "I'll just close my eyes -"
For a moment. Just a moment.
x x x x
Jim was six years old and lying in bed on his side. T'Pring was next to him, setting primly upright, wearing jeans and a tee shirt. Her feet were bare, and the color of her toe nails kept changing. Frank was gone - she'd Vulcan nerve pinched him and then he'd vanished.
"There was one other thing," she said softly.
Clutching his pillow, Jim nodded as sagaciously as a six year old could to indicate she should go on.
"The ease with which I was able to manipulate his mind," T'Pring said. "We were always taught that the Romulans chose to leave because they worshipped violence and aggression and set out to conquer new stars. But now...now I wonder if they did not leave, so much as they fled."
"It doesn't matter," said Jim, and T'Pring looked down at him.
"Whoever those ancient Vulcans were, whoever those ancient Romulans were, and who was wrong and who was right doesn't matter. You aren't one of those ancient Vulcans. You did the right thing." He looked down at the floor. "And you nerve pinched Frank. You are awesome."
Jim reached up, his hand small, unfamiliar, his heart huge and heavy. "I love you and I can't do anything about it, or even just have sex with you because you're married, and because I don't want to be that guy, because you'll hate me forever, because you make me want to be a better person."
Jim felt her push aside something that was akin to vexation. Raising an eyebrow she said, "And you appear to be 6 years old."
Jim grinned and let his hand drop. "That, too."
Everything started to go dark. "What's happening?" he mumbled into his pillow.
"You appear to be slipping into the second stage of your sleep cycle," said T'Pring, sounding very far away.
"Oh, yeah," mumbled Jim, "I'm dreaming."
The world went black and he was only conscious of being warm and safe. And then he was on his couch, lying on his good side, 31 years old again. But he was definitely still dreaming because T'Pring was sitting lotus style in front of him, wrapped in his robe, a blanket from his bed thrown over her legs. Her eyes were closed. Two fingers of one hand were on the pulse points of his wrist.
His heart feeling heavy, his head feeling light, he reached out and touched her cheek. And it was hot. And solid. And real.
Her eyes blinked open and Jim had the same sinking sensation in his stomach he'd felt when he knew his dad's Corvette was going to go over the cliff. She knew. The earth had shifted on its axis, the rotation of the galaxy had slowed, he was in love and she knew. And that might be good, except it wasn't. It was was maybe even cruel to burden her with it.
T'Pring's eyes went to his hand.
The comm in Jim's room crackled to life with Uhura's voice, "Captain, we are now orbiting New Vulcan."
Jim looked over at the ceiling but didn't - couldn't, move his hand. "Acknowledged," he said.
There was a pause and then Uhura said, "Captain, there is one other thing. A mister Tulvouk is requesting permission to beam over."
A/N:
What? It's not like Tulvouk could just disappear. And if I don't make it a cliffie you might not come back to read the rest.
Was Jim's change of heart was believable?
Reviews do feed my writing mood - if you're enjoying this, even if it is in a slightly pained way, please let me know!