The bell above the bar's door jingled once more, and Leonard, not so subtly, looked over his shoulder to see if it was finally Alice walking through the door. She's never late, he thought, turning back to the bar. His completely full beer was within easy reach, but untouched. With all the rumors flying around about why there was a curfew, an involuntary gnawing sensation of worry buried itself in the pit of his stomach.
"Alice isn't usually late, is she?" Jim asked, his voice carrying an edge of concern similar to the one Leonard was feeling as he landed gracelessly onto the barstool next to his friend.
"Hardly ever," Leonard shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant and uncaringly as he could. He picked up the bottle sitting in front of him by the neck, slowly rolling it back and forth between his fingertips before setting it back down, still unable to take a drink from it.
"I don't think I've ever seen you with anything other than an empty bottle or glass in front of you, Bones," Jim joked, but it was lackluster and forced.
"I haven't seen you order anything yet," Leonard growled in an annoyed retort.
Jim shrugged, giving him that small victory. "Should we call her? Make sure she didn't fall asleep or forget about us."
Leonard had been thumbing the comm. unit in his jacket pocket nervously after Alice didn't show up within five minutes after the time they had agreed on. But he didn't think it would be appropriate. He wasn't known to worry about people and certainly not for calling them because he was worried. Jim suggesting it opened the door for him, but he couldn't seem eager, couldn't seem like it's what he had been so desperate to do for the last twenty minutes.
"You've been talking about tonight for five days straight now," Leonard said doubtfully. "I don't think it's possible for her to forget about it."
The bell above the door jingled once more and both men turned to look, hoping that it was Alice. Instead, it was some gorgeous looking blonde. One who immediately singled out Jim with a flirtatious smile. But surprisingly enough, Jim copied Leonard's movement and returned to staring at the highly priced bottles of alcohol lining the wall behind the bar.
"I don't think I've ever seen you turn down a woman who smiled at you like that before," Leonard joked gruffly, not even attempting to make it sound lighthearted.
"First time for everything, I guess," he said dismissively, his mind clearly wandering elsewhere as he flagged Joe down. "Could I get a beer? Domestic." He then turned back towards Leonard. "Do you have her comm. frequency? I haven't gotten it from her yet. I just have her personal messenger address."
It was the invitation he had been waiting for. "Probably 'cause she's smart enough to know better than to give it to you." Leonard pulled out his comm., scrolling through his contacts until he found Alice's information and selected it. "And no, I will not be giving it to you."
"Wait, why do you have it?" Jim asked, sounding slightly offended.
"She gave it to me when you were hospitalized." He switched his comm. to confidential and held it to his ear.
"Why didn't she give it to me?" he all but pouted.
"Probably because she knew one of us would be with you when you did something stupid and no would need to call you to let you know you had done something stupid." God, it's like I'm dealing with a five-year-old, he thought bitterly, his concern making him more irritable than normal.
"It's not like I was the one who injected myself with something I was allergic to," Jim argued.
"It's not like you were very forthcoming with your medical history either," Leonard fired back, Jim's comment striking at the painful truth he hadn't forgiven himself for yet. He slammed his comm. unit on the counter in apparent frustration when really it was just his concern from the situation growing.
"Nothing?" Jim asked, knowing full well the answer already.
"Yeah."
"It's probably nothing, right?"
"Probably." But in truth, his heart was starting to race. This isn't like her… He drummed his fingers impatiently on the counter. "I'm going to try her again."
Leonard expected some smart-assed remark about finally growing a heart and caring about something for once from Jim, but his mostly obnoxiously loud friend was absent, and the man sitting next to him was silently serious, nodding softly as he rotated the glass of beer Joe had brought him. But like Leonard, he had yet to take his first drink.
Lenard snapped his comm. unit shut, dropping it back on the counter once more when he got Alice's messenger tone again. "Where the hell is she?" he sighed, his grim façade starting to crumble as worry edged into his voice.
"Is having me for company really that terrible?" Jim asked eyeing him curiously.
"Yes, but that's not my point."
And Jim knew that. The damn kid couldn't go longer than three minutes without having to say something or ask some overly personal question. Yet here he was, sitting at a bar, not drinking and not chasing after some girl as he always did. If there was one thing that Leonard knew about him, it was this: Jim was only quiet when he needed to be or when something was seriously wrong. Leonard just hoped that they were both wrong and that Alice being late was nothing serious.
But Leonard couldn't stop himself from thinking about the rumors surrounding the curfew. It had been in effect for a month now, and command had yet to issue a formal statement as to the reason behind it. Young cadets have wild imaginations, though, and had come up with quite of few theories. You couldn't fault their logic behind their reasoning. A curfew like the one currently in effect was only instituted when there was a threat at large. The most favored rumor following that logic was that someone, or some group, was targeting the Federation. More specifically, Federation cadets.
But it was just a rumor.
Leonard swallowed hard. For the past five weeks, ever since the night of the gala, he had started to get to know Alice better than anyone. They shared more than a bed together, and while Leonard kept telling himself that he needed to keep it casual and fun, to keep the relationship aspect completely out of it—reminding himself of what happened the last time he had a relationship and how horribly it went—he couldn't help but care for her. Alice had been a friend before things had become intimate between them, and now, to him, she was—
The bell jingled above the door, causing Jim and Leonard to turn simultaneously once more, and they were both able to breathe a collective sigh of relief as Alice walked in.
Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, ebony bangs cascading across her face. As she spotted both of them, a smile warmed her features. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a white bomber jacket with a black shirt underneath. As she approached, Jim hopped over to the next barstool so that Alice could sit between them.
"Sorry I'm so late boys," Alice said breathlessly as she remained standing. "Uhura called me just as I was about to leave and we ended up talking a lot longer than I thought." That's why she didn't answer her phone, Leonard realized. Joe saw that Alice had finally arrived and stopped by to ask what she was having. "I'll have whatever Jim got."
"It's fine," Leonard shrugged off, not bothering to mention just how worried they had been earlier. "Are you going to have a seat?"
"Actually I was wondering if we could sit at a table tonight," Alice said. "Comfier chairs."
"Anything for you, sweetheart," Leonard said, picking up his bottle and taking a swig before rising to his feet. "I'm just glad you're here, now I don' have to feel guilty about starting without you."
Jim followed suit, almost completely, as he also got up and drank from his beer. "Functional alcoholics like ourselves don't feel guilty for drinking."
"You're right," Leonard admitted, with a playful smirk, masking his earlier concerns. "I was just being polite."
Alice seemed to regard the two of them for a moment, a thoughtful smile dancing on her lips before she began to chuckle softly. Clearly, she found something about the two of them amusing as she grabbed her drink from Joe. "Come on," she said pleasantly, "we have a whole night of drinking ahead of us."
He had been bothering her all night. Every time he passed by their table to get a drink, he would stop and make some passing remark to Alice. And every time she would politely tell him off, asking him to stop or not to touch her several times. The guy just couldn't take the hint that she wasn't interested, and the more drinks he got up to get for him and his friends, the more obnoxious his advances towards her became.
It irritated Leonard. Not because of whatever was between them, they never said if they were exclusive or anything. It was fun, not a relationship, so if she wanted to be with someone else, he wouldn't mind. Well, that wasn't true. He would be disappointed, he enjoyed being with her; but it wasn't his place to control her life in any way other than what she allowed him.
No. What irritated him was how this guy was so ignorant of how uncomfortable he made Alice.
"Are you sure I can't get you anything, beautiful?" the asshole asked, his words slightly slurred as he stopped by once more. Alice cringed away from him as he propped himself up on his elbow, hovering over her. The sight of her doing all she could to escape this idiot made Leonard's blood boil.
"Yeah, she's sure," Jim answered for her, pulling him away from her and knocking him backward a few steps. Leonard hadn't even realized that his friend was on his feet and sizing the other guy up.
Leonard sat up a little straighter when he saw the other guy clench his fists, setting his beer down just in case. He eyed the competition. Asshole had three friends to back him up if it came to blows. Now, he might be a doctor, but Leonard knew how to brawl. Between himself and Jim, they should be to come out on top. It might hurt for a few days after, but it would be worth it if they could get him to back off Alice.
"What are you guys?" asshole chuckled drunkenly. "Her bodyguards?"
"If we need to be," Jim answered. He then leaned in narrowing his eyes slightly. "Do we need to be?"
"Whatever, man," the drunk laughed off continuing to the bar.
"Thanks, Jim," Alice said quietly as he sat back down.
"I'm not that bad, am I?" he asked playfully.
"No," she shook her head. "You're much more charming and polite."
"Hear that Bones," he said, taking a drink from his fast depleting beer. "I'm charming and polite."
Leonard merely rolled his eyes. "Please don't encourage him, Alice. We'll never hear the end of it."
Alice chuckled softly, "Sorry." She finished up the last of her drink. "I'm going to go get another one." The little hop she did to get off of the chair for the high-top table made Leonard smile faintly, finding it adorable. "Don't do anything stupid until I get back," she added, lightly knocking on the table with her knuckles.
"Can't make that promise with this moron around," Leonard joked, motioning towards Jim with his bottle.
"You are so mean," Jim whined over-dramatically.
Leonard rolled his eyes, taking another drink.
"You know she brother-ed me," Jim said in a low voice once Alice was out of earshot. "Like full on you're a brother to me brother-ed me." And for an obvious reason, Leonard found that hilarious, breaking out into uncharacteristic laughter. "It's not funny, man."
"You're right, it's not," Leonard said, continuing to chuckle. "It's hilarious."
"I never get brother-ed," he added in disbelief.
"Poor Jim Kirk," Leonard booed him playfully, "a man who never knows a woman for longer than one night and has never been in a relationship with one that wasn't sexual doesn't know how to handle being the friend that's like a brother." He raised an eyebrow. "Such a tragedy."
Jim rolled his eyes, "Yeah, laugh it up, old man. If I'm the brother, that should make you the father by default."
Leonard coughed, choking on his drink a little. "That's just wrong," he said in disgust, his face twisted into a scowl as he continued to cough quietly, trying to clear the burning alcohol from his airways. His scowl became much deeper when he heard Jim laughing.
She had been having fun that night. It was nice having Jim around. He had a way of bringing a similar childish sense of humor like his own out in Leonard, and that lead to all kinds of interesting conversations. Alice found herself completely at ease with the men that had been seated on either side of her, smiling and laughing in a way that was new for her: like a normal human being, like a true friend of theirs. It was refreshing. And she was enjoying every moment of it.
The first few times he hit on her, Alice lightly brushed him off with smiles and evasive answers, very much like she had with Jim when she first met him. As his advances progressed throughout the night, however, Alice's tolerance for his closeness started to wear thin; so, she more stringently made use of the words no and stop, shying away from him in the vein hope that he would finally take the hint. The man who slowly became drunk made her completely uncomfortable, the pressure squeezing her chest and making her heart flighty in its beat only increasing the more often he came by and the closer he got to her. Which only increased as the night went on.
But Alice didn't want her… disorder—the word, even unspoken, put a foul taste in her mouth it was so repulsive—to spoil the night. Leonard and Jim were clearly enjoying themselves despite how tense they had been when she arrived late. So, she put on a smile, laughed when they made some joke or smart-assed remark at the other's expense, and lightly tapped her fingers in a fixed pattern on whatever surface was beneath her fingertips, usually whatever container her most recent drink was in, to keep her breathing and heart rate under control. The only true deep breath of relief she was able to take was when Jim had finally told the drunk off.
Relief that the drunk would leave her alone for the rest of the night.
Alice waited patiently at the counter, the tenseness and skin crawling feeling that had been growing, pushing her closer to the edge of her tolerance was slowly starting to fade away as Joe mixed her latest drink. Alice had decided to go with a fashionable classic: vodka martini. It felt appropriate given that, moments earlier, Leonard had let slip that he was a fan of the old cinema James Bond films. Jim had spent a good five minutes pestering the hell out of him about it, leaving Alice with stitches in her sides when Jim had started doing impressions.
Alice couldn't help but smile. Tonight was a good night.
The restraints were too tight as they were cinched down across her chest and abdomen. Her heart was thunderous as she struggled to breathe. Panic surged through her veins, forcing her to struggle and fight, anything to get away. Anything to prevent the pain that was coming next.
She had to get away.
The rough nylon material with metal weave reinforcing it dug into her wrists and ankles as she thrashed, her movements chaotic as she tried to find some kind of give. There had to be a way to get out, but the material was strong and so tight. Alice could feel the blood, her blood trickling from new wounds as her struggling caused the restraints to cut deeply into her skin. If she could get away, though, if she could get free…. That small amount of discomfort would be worth it so long as she could avoid what was to come next.
But they were smart. They had to be. It was their jobs. They knew how to keep her restrained properly. They had to if they wanted to continue their work, to keep the successes coming.
More hands came, smothering, blanketing her, holder her down as they tried to keep her still so they could finally start. Another day with more tests. Alice could see the needles poised to begin, could see the one held in one of their hands as he brought it closer to her neck.
"Get off of me!"
Her screaming or crying or pleading never worked on these people. They didn't care about anything other than results. She was just a number on a page with a list of facts, test results, dates, and notes. These humans were monsters, and they didn't think she was human. They certainly wouldn't treat a human like this, would they?
The needle plunged deep, a mild pinch compared to what was to come next; and suddenly Alice couldn't move.
All she could see was hopelessness red.
All she could hear was isolation red.
All she could feel was agonizingly painful red, and the soreness of her knuckles where the bruising would appear under the blood red.
Leonard rolled his eyes as Jim continued to laugh. "Damnit Jim, I'm not that old!" he exclaimed for God only knows how many times since they had first met.
"No, you're right," he said, trying to get his laughter under control. "Compared to a fossil, you're not that old."
"Get off of me!"
In the instant it took him to recognize that voice, the panic and desperation warping it into a tone he had never heard before, Leonard was just barely able to comprehend Alice struggling in the drunken asshole's arms, the crashing and snapping of wood mixed with the sound of shattering glass as she knocked him off of her and into a nearby cocktail table, and the sound of heavy blows landing as she punched him repeatedly once he was on the floor.
But Alice wasn't stopping her assault, and she was putting an aggressiveness behind her punches that Leonard had never seen from her before.
"She's gonna kill him," Leonard realized in horror. There was no mistaking the look on her face: it was akin to the one she had worn the day she froze on the exam.
Leonard sprung into action with Jim close behind as he rushed towards her, hoping to stop whatever was happening before she got herself hurt.
"Alice!" he called out to her, shoving people that had gathered around out of his way.
But she wasn't hearing him.
"Alice, stop!" he shouted.
But she just kept hitting him over and over again at a steady tempo.
A half-circle of people had formed to spectate and Jim quickly started to manage them, pushing back any who got too close while keeping a close eye on the asshole's friends, as if he was daring them to try and intervene.
"Alice, stop!" Leonard shouted at her again, catching her by her wrist before she could land another blow and the already unconscious drunk. He was barley able to stop her from completing the movement as he half dragged, half pushed her off of the drunk and onto her feet, only stopping when he had her pinned with her back on the bar's counter.
Alice's breathing was strained and erratic. Her chaotic eyes looked wild, like those of an animal that was struggling in its decision between the fight or flight response. But her eyes weren't focused on anything, just fixed at a point past him as she shook violently in his arms. Leonard had to force her arm, still frozen mid-strike, to her side. Her fists remained clenched tightly, however.
Leonard's concern for her skyrocketed as he recognized the signs. She was having another episode, but this one was much worse than last time. She hadn't nearly beaten a man to death then.
"Jim, is he still breathing?" Leonard called over his shoulder, not daring to take his focus off of Alice in case she wasn't in full control of her own actions still.
There was a silent pause. "Yeah, he is."
Leonard looked up at Joe who remained firmly pressed against the wall behind the counter in shock. "This was self-defense," he explained in a very low and threatening voice to the bartender before he snaked his arm around Alice. Without having to be told anything, Jim cleared a path through the bystanders for Leonard as he led Alice out of the bar.
"Alice?" Leonard tried gently, keeping his arm behind her to usher her forward but keeping the contact as light as he possibly could.
But she was gone. Hollow. Absent. Trapped.
I've got to get her back to her apartment, he realized. Then I can help her.
"Where are we going?" he heard Jim ask cautiously from behind him.
"Alice, if you can hear me," Leonard said quietly, coaxingly, "we're going to head back to your apartment so I can take a look at your hand and make sure you didn't hurt yourself, alright?" But it didn't get a response. It did, however, serve to answer Jim's question.
Alice continued to say nothing, and did nothing other than walk in the direction Leonard lead her in. The few blocks it took to get to her apartment were gruesomely quiet, and Leonard had to force her to place her hand on the biometric scanner to open the door, something from her wincing looked as if it physically hurt her. It made him sick to his stomach.
Once they were inside, Leonard led Alice to her couch, letting her sit down as he pulled up a footstool so that he was seated across from her. "Alice," he started, trying to get her attention, "I'm going to examine your hand now." Her eyes remained fixed at nothing and she gave him no response. Leonard waited a couple of second before reaching out to her.
"No!" she shrieked, infant-like as she quickly jerked away from him, acting as if he meant to hurt her in some way.
"Alright, I won't," he responded quickly, throwing up his hands defensively to calm her down and show her he wasn't going to touch her.
"Please don't," she whimpered. "Not again…"
"I won't touch you. I promise, sweetheart," Leonard tried to reassure her, but he knew that Alice wasn't talking to him. She was talking to whatever phantoms of memory were now flashing before her eyes.
Alice's gaze was far away, as far as her mind was, he imagined. And Leonard realized then that he wasn't going to get anywhere with her in the moment; she was too far gone, lost to the own machinations of her mind. The only thing he could do was fall back and figure out another way to unlock her from the horrors she was trapped in.
"What the hell was that?" Jim hissed in a concerned whisper once Leonard had left Alice sitting alone. "And don't bullshit me McCoy," he added when Leonard hesitated with an answer.
McCoy. Jim had never used his real name. Leonard looked at his friend, regarding him curiously. It was only because of the honest concern and worry in regards to Alice pooling in Jim's crystalline eyes that Leonard decided to let him in on what little he knew and what he had figured out.
"She suffers from a mild form of haphephobia and PTSD," he disclosed, keeping his voice a quiet whisper in its seriousness.
"Haphephobia being…?"
"The fear of being touched. When that asshole in the bar grabbed her, he must have triggered a PTSD episode."
"So why isn't she talking?"
Leonard shook his head. All he had were speculations on that. "She must have disassociated to keep herself from feeling the pain associated with the flashback she's currently having." His heart grew heavier and heavier as his spoke. "Instead, she's just watching the memories unfold in front of her, unable to feel pain but unable to snap back to reality."
"So what do we do?" Jim asked, that innocent hopefulness quavering in his voice.
"I don't know?" Leonard admitted, defeated, slouching as he massaged his forehead with his knuckles.
"Is there anything we can do?" Jim had never seen Bones look like this before. Haunted, hopeless, despondent. He was always bitter and rough around the edges, but it was to hide how much he genuinely cared. And what Alice was suffering through, it was clearly tearing Bones apart.
"I don't know," Bones said in frustrated defeat. "Last time, she was able to pull herself out of it relatively quickly."
"Well, we can't just stand here and wait for her to maybe get better."
"I know that Jim," Bones hissed at him, and Jim regretted saying it. It wasn't his fault. It was that drunk from the bar's fault.
Alice sat rigidly on the couch, unmoving as if she had turned to stone. Jim found it hard to believe that she was the same person he had just earlier been laughing with as they teased Bones about some quirk of his. "There has to be something we can do," he said, not willing to give up on her.
Bones shook his head. This was clearly taking a greater toll out of him than he would have otherwise let on. Alice had a way of doing that. Disarming people, coaxing them out from behind their facades and showing their true selves. That person over there, fractured and broken, there was no way that was Alice.
"I'm going to see if I can try and get her talking again," Bones said, not very confident that he would succeed. "You should call Pike."
Jim frowned. "What the hell does Pike have to do with this?"
"He's her father," Bones answered, offering Jim nothing else as he walked back towards Alice, his demeanor changing instantly from defeated to hopeful and caring, a doctor's greatest charade. For Alice's sake.
Jim balked but took out his comm. unit, Alice's well-being was more important than wrapping his head around that revelation. Jim quickly plugged in Pike's frequency, thankful that the man had been nothing but a pain in his ass since he had dared Jim into enlisting, always checking in on him, inquiring about his grades and state of mind. It was damned annoying, though Kirk did suppose he may have put his neck on the line to get "the smartest repeat offender in the Midwest" into the academy.
"Kirk, there better be a damn good reason for calling me so late."
Shit… Jim didn't even know where to start. "It's Alice, sir."
"Are you going to make me guess, Kirk, or are you going to tell me what's going on?" Pike growled threateningly, protectively.
How do you tell a man his daughter just had a mental breakdown and nearly beat a man to death with nothing but her fists? But Jim did the best he could, recounting the events in as much detail as he could, not that he knew much beyond what had happened. He had no explanation for the why.
"How is she, Jim?" Pike asked afterward, his voice quieter and much more concerned.
"She's—she's not good, sir. Bones—Dr. McCoy is trying to get her to respond, but it's like she's not even there."
There was a very long pause before Pike spoke up. "You need to get her to talk, Jim. And don't let her stop.
"Sir…" Jim sighed. "That might be easier said than done."
"Jim, I know I'm going to be asking you a lot. But she knowns trauma. She's lived it." Pike hesitated. "Just like you. Use that. It may be a way to get her back."
She's lived trauma, Jim echoed, his heart dropping as he realized what Pike was asking him to do, to relive. It's for Alice…It will be for Alice, he told himself repeatedly as he remained where he was, stuck, frozen to the spot and in time. His heart was steady, his body calm and relaxed; but his mind, his mind was racing to a thousand different places.
"Jim? Jim?' The voice in his ear snapped him back out of it.
"Consider I done, sir," Jim said, detached, before snapping his communicator closed. He looked over to where Alice was seated.
Bones was sitting across from her, his hands folded together, as he spoke to her. Whatever he was saying was too quiet for Jim to hear, but he kept peering at Alice, trying to put himself in her line of sight. Jim could tell by the rigidity she was still sitting with that it wasn't working, though.
Jim cleared his throat to get his attention. Bones looked up at him, meeting his eyes for a flicker of a moment before returning to Alice. He was a completely different person from the man he had come to know over the past couple of months, gentle and hushed, and even though Jim couldn't make out what Bones was saying, he knew that it was soft-spoken tenderness that he had never witnessed before. Then again, he supposed, everyone here was doing things they had never done before. Bones was being kind, Jim was about to talk, and Alice…. had let Jim into her apartment.
"Anything?" Jim asked, half hoping while the other half already knew the answer already.
"No," he shook his head.
There's no turning back after this, he told himself. It was his last chance to convince himself not to go through with it. If it works, they won't look at you the same way. But it was for Alice, he couldn't just do nothing. She and Bones, as pathetic as it might sound, had become the closest thing to family he had, had in years.
"Do you know if she can even hear us?"
"She can hear us," Bones answered, "it's like she's just choosing not to listen."
"Why would she do that?"
"I said it's like she's choosing not to listen," he repeated, a little annoyed, though it was probably because of the stress of the situation and not anything Jim had said. "What it's more like is that her mind is so fixed on whatever she's reliving that she couldn't possibly focus on something else unless it's important."
"Important?"
"Yeah, something to hold her interest her or shock her enough to get her to listen." There was a good joke about how Bones was uninteresting, but Jim just let it lie there and die.
Jim cast his gaze towards Alice, solidifying his convictions. "I'm going to try something," he looked back at Bones, "stay close in case."
The empty gaze in Alice's eyes, as Jim sat across from her, was heart wrenching. If he had any doubts in whether or not he should talk to her, they quickly vanished at the sight of how lifeless and broken Alice looked, staring at nothing, sitting rigidly and unmoving.
"Hey Alice," Jim started softly, flashing her the smile he could always count on to hide his true emotions. "Bones here tell me you can hear us, it's just difficult for you to pay attention." He kept his voice light and quiet. "But I need you to tell you something, Alice, and I need you to pay attention. Can you do that for me?" Jim hesitated a moment, but Alice didn't respond. "What I have to tell you…it's more than important. It's classified."
Alice blinked, and for the fraction of it took her to do so, a frown formed. A reaction.
Part of Jim's smile became honest. "It's classified, on a need to know basis, and I need you to know this now."
He had hoped maybe that she would look at him, a clear signal that he should continue and that he wasn't just talking to a wall. But it was too soon for that. Alice did relax her shoulders ever so slightly, however, straightening out slightly; and while she may not have looked at him, she now fixed her unfocused eyes at a point in space closer to Jim. It was her way of saying that she was listening, and Jim picked up on that.
"Do you remember what you said the last time this happened? The wounded recognize the wounded," he answered for her. "I don't think I've ever heard a more honest statement." Jim chuckled softly, continuing on and reacting as if he was carrying on a normal conversation. "Now, I may not know anything about your trauma; but I understand, Alice. I've lived through my own trauma," she gave another frown hidden in a blink. "I know what it's like, and I understand."
Moment of truth, "Remember how I mentioned that after driving my uncle's car off a cliff, I chose community service on an off-planet colony?" He swallowed hard. "That colony was on Tarsus IV."
Bones had said something shocking or interesting might be able to grab her attention. Jim had done both.
It looked as if she had woken up, blinking rapidly, her body relaxing, her posture more natural as Alice looked at him, questioningly. There were still parts of her missing in those intense and chaotic eyes of hers, but hidden within the flecks of gold, Jim could see her. Whatever she he had been reliving might still be running through her mind, but Jim had her attention.
And God help him, he was going to have to continue to talk in order to get her back completely.
"It hadn't been so bad at first. Only some of the food had been contaminated, or so we had thought. It just means that it had to be rationed out and there were no really large meals until the Federation could bring us more supplies. Kodos had told us that he had sent out a message, that would help would come.
"For about a month, we held onto the hope that Federation would get there, but the fungus was spreading and contaminating more food at an accelerated rate while the rations grew smaller to match it. It was only when people had gone to Kodos' house to demand answers that all hell broke loose. All he had to offer them was a notice that ration sizes were decreasing once more. The crowd gathered there rioted, and that was when the first ten people died. Kodos had his private security fire on the crowd."
Jim's voice cracked slightly. He hadn't expected talking about it to cause an emotional response from him. He could think back on it with cold indifference, but he was having a hard time going on stoically.
"When the dust settled, Kodos explained that he had found an answer to the food shortage in old eugenics philosophies. That only the four thousand people who were more desirable, more useful, and more likely to survive would be spared while the other four thousand…would be put to death, for the good of the remaining colonists.
"Kodos didn't have enough security to kill them all himself, but the four thousand that weren't on the execution list tipped the balance in his favor. Families were torn apart, turned against one another as they became animals trying to preserve their own existence."
Jim shook his head. "I was thirteen at the time. And my name was on the list for execution. All the children were." He hesitated a moment, "Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. Your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore, I have no alternative but to sentence you to death," he finally echoed.
"Moments, before Kodos carried out the execution, myself and eight other kids, managed to escape. I had to kill a guard to do so, but we managed to make it to the woods, just in time to watch as 3,991 people were murdered and dumped into a mass grave."
The silence that seeped into the air around them was suffocating as the weight of what Jim revealed about himself fully sunk in. It was as palpable as the tears that he hastily rubbed off his cheeks.
He could feel Bones staring at him.
Jim chuckled bitterly, hopelessly, "The next day, the Federation arrived to offer us aid."
With his narrative ended, Jim searched for Alice, somewhere along the way, he had lost her eyes, they were fixed somewhere else, flickering slightly as she was thinking. But they weren't empty. She was there, shielded, protecting herself from becoming more broken, but she was there.
Alice frowned slightly as if she were in pain. "Old eugenics philosophies," she echoed softly, her words discordant with fragmentation. "I know quite a bit about those, too."
The needles under her skin were still there, tearing into her nerves, injecting and extracting from her without permission. But the images, the memories that had held her had faded into slight distractions. Alice could hear, listen, pay attention, think, react, and now finally speak.
"They were supposed to have died with the signing of the treaty after the Eugenic Wars," she continued. "But they didn't." All she could do is smile at her desperation, smile so that she didn't cry. "I'm living proof of that."
Jim cocked his head to the side, questioningly; but understand that his time to talk had passed, it was her turn now. Just as he needed to talk, she needed to as well. Alice was so very tired of keeping secrets.
"I can't remember a day before I turned thirteen where I wasn't locked in a sterile room, where there weren't restraints digging into me, or needles being jammed under my skin." Alice massaged the back of her neck, trying to suppress the phantom pain of memory. "Every day the doctors would run tests, either on various fluids they had extracted from me or ones they put me through to test physical attributes. And every day I would scream, cry, beg, and fight to get away."
The tears came unbidden, and while she wanted to say more, it memories were too real for her too fresh, too real for her to go in depth. "But they never would. They would cut, and slice, and poke, and prod, never giving me any more rest than what was required, another controlled variable." Alice's voice broke, and she had to stop for a moment. "All those doctors cared about was succeeding in their goal of making an augmented human."
Alice locked eyes with Jim, the horror of realization surfacing in his crystal blue eyes. "And they did when they created me."
~~.O.~~
*drops mic, walks away*