The remaining days of the holidays passed quickly and before Jim could blink, he was kissing his bondmates after midnight, heralding in a new year full of promise and potential. By this time next year, he'd be celebrating with his partners and their children. The thought was still so foreign to him. He was going to be a father. Until it had happened, he'd never really much considered having a family. He'd always been married to his ship and the few women he could contemplate a future with had remained just beyond his reach.
"Earth to Kirk, come in Kirk."
He started, the sound of Nyota talking drawing him out of his thoughts, and he smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. My mind was somewhere else. What were you saying?"
"I said Spock and I are going to bed," she repeated. "Are you going to join us or were you wanting to stay up a bit longer?"
He grinned, setting his glass down, slipping his arms around Nyota's waist. "I hope you weren't planning to sleep much tonight," he murmured. "There's so many better things we could be doing in that bed than sleeping."
She laughed. "You're insatiable."
"When it comes to you and Spock," he teased. "Always."
# # #
Jim stared out the window of the hovercab that was taking him to the temporary quarters Starfleet had assigned him. He would remain in them for short time leading up to his testimony against Dookal. As much as he wished Spock and Nyota could stay with him, he was under strict no contact orders until he submitted an official statement via video feed, which would thankfully occur in less than 24 hours.
It had been a relief to hear that he wouldn't have to actually be present when he made the accusations against Dookal, the small concession offering him a measure of comfort in the sea of turmoil that was currently his life. He would just be glad when this whole mess was over with.
The amulet his bondmates had given him for Christmas hung about his neck and he grasped it tightly, grinning. His eyes slid closed and all of his barriers came tumbling down as he focused on the love he felt for Spock, Nyota and their children. Impossibly, he felt the faint, yet familiar brush of their minds against his. He allowed their love to fill him.
I miss you both, he murmured. I wish you were here.
As do we, ashal-vek, came Spock's soothing reply.
A rush of comfort touched him through the bond. It won't be long, Jim. Just give your statement, answer their questions and we can be together soon.
Jim opened his eyes, surprised to find that he'd arrived already. He threw his duffel over his shoulder and paid the cab fare, tipping the driver a couple of extra credit chits, before he entered the building code and ascended the stairs.
# # #
The evening passed slowly, and with no good entertainment on the feeds, he was forced to resort to browsing the news feeds. He grimaced as the stories only grew more depressing and morbid. It was a wonder people didn't up and kill themselves with all the negativity in the media.
He ordered supper from the food synthesizer, but quickly realized that he wasn't truly hungry. The combination of nerves and boredom was enough to make his stomach churn with unease without a single thing to occupy him. Upon further exploration of his temporary living space, he found several machines set up in another room to form a makeshift gym.
With nothing better to do, he cranked the speed of the treadmill up to 7.2 kph with an incline of 2. After a half-hour, he wiped the sweat from his face, neck and arms before beginning his typical series of core and resistance exercises, starting with sit-ups and finishing with a round or two with the punching bag. His strikes were quick and decisive, the force of each setting the bag in motion. He even practiced a few combinations without the bag, imagining the impact on his opponent, picturing the final takedown.
Worn down, he took a cool shower and toweled off, slipping into his bottoms before climbing into bed. However, even the calming effect of exercise couldn't keep the nightmares at bay. He woke up several times throughout the night, tangled in his sheets, his skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat as he struggled to catch his breath.
Sighing in resignation, he slid from under the covers and picked up a PADD, once again checking the entertainment feeds. Still nothing. With nothing else to do, he did some research on Vulcan traditions and culture. Granted, there wasn't much that he hadn't already read; but he figured as the father-to-be of two part Vulcan children, he ought to brush up on the basics. As the Vulcan saying went, infinite diversity in infinite combinations.
Invariably, his research only made him think more of his bondmates. He re-lived several of his favorites of their sexual encounters in his eidetic memory, which inevitably led to him stroking his cock to the tune of their moans, sighs and whimpers in his memories. He came moments later with his seed spilling all over his hand. Gasping for breath, he felt the walls beginning to close in. And it was barely 0400.
# # #
Miraculously, he survived the night of boredom, all but crying out in relief when the morning sun peaked through the glass windows. He ordered a cup of strong, black coffee before jumping into the shower again and readying himself as though he was actually attending the trial. It had been made very clear to him that although he wasn't require to be physically present for his testimony, he was to conduct himself in the manner his rank warranted, which meant adhering to dress code.
He straightened the high collar of his black dress uniform, then slicked his hair back with a regulation gel. Satisfied with his appearance, Jim moved into the living area and made himself comfortable in the chair at the desk provided for him, then entered a series of commands that would connect him with the camera in the room where the trial was being held. The room was deliberately set up so that he didn't have a direct view of Dookal and wouldn't unless he or someone in the courtroom redirected the camera.
"Do you swear under penalty of court-martial that everything you are about to reveal is the entire truth and nothing but?" the prosecuting officer asked.
Jim nodded. "I do, sir."
The officer inclined his head. "Please state your full name and rank for the record."
"Captain James Tiberius Kirk, sir."
Another nod. "Very well, Captain Kirk. Please describe in detail the events of your kidnapping and subsequent torture."
His throat tight, Jim described everything he could remember about his time as Dookal's prisoner, including, to his humiliation, his rape. He somehow managed to maintain his composure throughout, though he was re-living every memory vividly as though he were there again.
"Thank you, Captain," the officer acknowledged. "I know how difficult it must have been for you to share your experience."
The officer asked a few more probing questions before handing the proceedings over to Dookal's representative. He stiffened, expecting the man to question every detail of his story, to cast doubt on the portions that were still hazy to Jim himself. What he hadn't expected was the man's first and final words.
"Your honor, I move to have all charges against my client dropped and that he be allowed to return home without fear of further persecution."
Jim gaped and such a ruckus arose in the room that he could barely hear the judge's calls for order over the din. "If order isn't restored, I'll have the courtroom cleared of any and all unnecessary personnel."
Gradually the noise died and attention focused on the prosecuting officer, who looked positively on edge as he ventured, "On what grounds?"
"The evidence you have connecting my client to these accusations is circumstantial at best," he replied flippantly. "And your key witness has had his memories tampered with, so he's hardly a reliable source on information on the events that occurred."
The prosecuting officer's gaze bore into his. "Is this true, Captain?"
Jim sucked in a sharp breath. Spock's memory suppression techniques. "Sir, in an effort to protect me from the trauma I endured over the course of my kidnapping, my First Officer suppressed the more violent of the memories temporarily."
The audiences loud whispers were like screams.
"Counsel, in my chambers now," the judge ground out. "We'll take a brief recess while I determine if the prosecution has enough solid evidence to continue and whether the court will allow Mr. Kirk's testimony given this new information."
The screen went suddenly black, leaving Jim staring at it blankly, his heart racing in his chest.