Hello,

I am back. YAY me. I liked this chapter, but you let me know what you think.

Reviews are nice.

Reminder: _(O(O)O)_ this means a change in the timeline. Flashback alert.

Chapter 7:

Warning Signs

Commander John Harrison wasn't like any other Starfleet officer you might meet. He was far superior, and as it stood now, there was no one that could take him down, which was why this entire situation angered him. There were a few things that angered 'John Harrison' with one of them being the name John Harrison. God, he hated that name more. He also hated this face; the blue eyes and white skin were off putting. It was an ugly mask. A mask that hide his true standing. Hiding his identity felt like he was ashamed of himself and he was not. He was only ashamed of his failure, which he would correct. Admiral Marcus, the fool that he was, tried to take this from him. The Admiral stole his face, his memories and his name in the attempt to turn him into a pet. It worked for a while, controlling him like a dog. This was until his memory returned and his true self was restored.

His name wasn't John Harrison. He was Khan Noonien Singh, and he was a King. He had ruled one-quarter of Earth, and he would have that again soon enough. He refused to be anything else. After discovering who he was, he desired nothing more than Marcus's blood. He wanted to bring a blade down on Marcus's throat and slit it open. He wanted to watch the life leave his body, but any action against the Admiral would mean action against his crew, his family. Marcus was holding his crew over his head, and as long as he had them, Khan was trapped. Even if it made him sick, he was the man's trained pet, doing his bidding for the time being.

Yet, he wasn't powerless. Khan was a general. He was a genius, unmatched. Solutions—Plans- formed in his head. Equations were flashing before his eyes, allowing him an insight into the future the Marcus couldn't begin to see. Khan was making moves that should've been left unseen for years. Marcus, like the rest of Starfleet, was too thick and unintelligent to see that they were being played. It would've and should've led to the Admiral's downfall. It just sheer luck that Khan's plan was discovered, forcing Khan to flee.

A nauseating feeling bloomed in his stomach, unfamiliar nerves dancing through his system; it was clear what Macus's discovery meant. There was no doubt Marcus would have his crew killed for this with nothing Khan could do beside revenge. With fury in his heart, he would proudly do. Retribution was the least he could do for his family. It is what they deserved, and nothing would stop him from spilling Marcus' blood. Innocents may be killed, but he had no issue with sacrificing them to get what he wanted. While he had sympathy for a father trying to save his daughter, he had no issue with blackmailing and sacrificing Thomas Harewood for his goals. He shed no tears to him, or the people killed in the destruction of Kelvin Memorial Archive.

In fact, he submersed himself in bloodiness of it all, the glory of it all. He drunk it in and took great joy in ripping Marcus and his precious Starfleet apart at the seams. The destruction of the Archive was the beginning and a means to the end; it put the Admiral where Khan wanted. Protocol would mandate that senior command gather the captains and first officers at Starfleet HQ for an emergency session. This would his chance to take out Starfleet command in one quick shot, and he would gladly take it. It was an itch that he would scratch. They stole his family and he would repay them violently and swiftly for that. They would pay for stealing his identity, his life. He was not their pet. He would show them his teeth.

The jumpship moved smoothly under Khan's gently hands, obeying his every order. Khan was grateful for this as he had to be careful when moving undetected through Starfleet controlled air. It was laughable to how easy he got through their defenses, which reinforce Khan's cause. It strengthened his thoughts on Starfleet: how inferior they truly were. With a mission to complete, he forced the smile off his face while the jumpship quickly and smoothly climbed the side of the building. Though the likelihood of failure was low, Khan couldn't allow himself to become cocky. Marcus knew he was coming, and anything was possible. Yet, it was hard not to when he reached the correct room untouched.

The room glowed under the harsh red light, a creepy atmosphere sitting in. It reminded Khan of Hell, place of crushing and enormous fear. The light was severe, creating large dark shadows. As if demons were hidden in shadows, Khan took in the room under an eagle eye. It took him a few seconds to locate Admiral Marcus. The others were nonexistence to Khan as Marcus was the one that Khan wanted to rip apart limb by limb. He wanted to smash the Admiral's head and watch the life leave his body. He wanted everyone in that room to die bloody and violently, to feel what he was feeling. They had stolen and murdered his crew for his disobedience. They deserved death. Khan forced his eyes away from Marcus as his fingers danced on the trigger for the jumpship's weapons.

It wasn't until the room jump to its feet that Khan noticed a certain, glorious Captain. In the severity of the red lights, it was impossible to make out James T Kirk's most alluring features. His blond hair was a dark grubby brown, and his eyes were an odd shade of burgundy, which Khan found himself not liking. Kirk was an exotic beauty, and it was a horrendous shame to see his beauty hidden. It was-No, he hissed at himself. The Captain is a distraction. Khan didn't know when the illogical attachment formed, but there was no denying that it existed. At first, Kirk, like everyone else, was a means to an end, a tool. He was a tool to both Marcus and Khan, though for different reasons.

Khan had heard of Kirk before. Who hadn't heard of the Cadet turned Captain? Jim's history was the stuff that stories were made from, and anyone who was anyone loved to talk about him. Jim inspired people on sheer reputation, and anyone who met the man could attest it was true. He had a way about him. What Captain Kirk lacked in experience he made up for in stubbornness. Kirk—Jim, he kept reminding himself- had a glow and an inter-power to him that was unmatched. Jim was charming even when he didn't mean to be, and he was honest. There was this undying heat in him. Even with the odds against him, he refused to give up. There was this undying loyalty in him that Khan found himself desiring. It reminded him of his own loyalty, and he found wanting Jim's trust for himself. He was hungry for it. He wasn't exactly sure why, as Jim was biologically inferior; yet, he wanted it.

Jim was a sweet, yummy candy that was being dangled in front of a child, and Khan was that child. It was odd, and with all of his intelligent, he couldn't quite understand it himself. It annoyed and excited him at the same time. It was an unorthodox; yet, he wanted that trust. He was sure he had it before he ended their relationship prematurely. He didn't want to. Khan had wanted to use him for intel and a possible escape. It didn't hurt to have a Captain, the Golden Boy at that, in his pocket. Jim, who would never knowingly give Khan any classified info, was a weapon, an invaluable resource, and while he wanted to keep Jim—his fingers dancing on that beautiful skin, his tongue making Jim twitch-, Marcus had started to notice, and Khan could not allow that.

With his crew hanging over his head, Khan wouldn't give Marcus anything else at that time. Marcus wanted any kind of leverage over Khan and keeping up the act with Kirk would have given the Admiral more leverage. That couldn't have been not be allowed. As Marcus had gotten what he needed from Jim, Marcus didn't give it another thought to Kirk when Khan reported the relationship as over. He would have noticed if Khan kept it up, and he refused to give that man anymore power over him…or Jim.

Madness had befallen the room setting everyone into a crave motion. "Jim," Khan uttered as the man faced the jumpship. A strange feeling bubbling in his chest, Jim, in mere seconds, locked eyes with him. Like magic, the red light disappeared for the two men, and blue eyes met blue eyes. He found himself looking into a sea of emotions, though anger echoed the loudest. No words were needed. Khan could see the shock and fury in Jim's eyes, even from this distance. Khan, struggling at first, hardened his expression as his hand drifted to his weapon controls.

It could not be refuted that Jim had the most gorgeous blue eyes, once in a lifetime view, and they could cut through anything and everyone like a sharp knife. Khan could see a storm behind those eyes; Jim had the most expressive eyes that he had ever seen. In the past, Khan would find himself doing odd things to see these expressions in Kirk's eyes. It was strange, and annoying as he did them before he realized he was doing it, which was what he was doing now. He delayed firing to stare into Jim's soul piercing eyes, watching the fury of emotions reflecting through them. It was amazing to see. Forcing his hand to the trigger, Khan kept his eyes on Kirk and fired.

He watched as a new expressive bloomed in those wonderful eyes. It was magical to see each emotion morph into something else. He could never fire on Kirk, those blue eyes too pretty to kill. It didn't mean anyone else was safe. He would slaughter everyone, watching them bleed out on the floor. Schooling his emotions, he targeted Marcus and a few selected officers first. They would be his first, following by the rest of the officers in the room. If he could get Commander Spock, he would sleep well tonight. There was no doubt that Vulcan would be a pain in the ass if he allowed him to live. Plus, he didn't like his face.

*O*O*

Jim looked like he had been through the ringer, though that wasn't far from the truth. He did go through a firefight. His dress hat was long gone, lost in the rumble. His dress coat, thrown back on chair, had several wholes lining edge of it. Jim, ripping his dress jacket off like he was on fire, was left in his black under shirt, which was untucked from his pants and wrinkled from the collar to the hem. He, both physically and mentally drained, had heavy dark cycles under his blue eyes, and several scratches and bruises on his face. There was a nasty cut above his eye, and his head hurt, a full-blown headache pounding against his skill. Also, his shoulder throbbed, and every movement sent pain down his arm.

Bones would've given Jim something for the pain, but he pretty much refused to let Bones touch any part of him, barking vehemently at the good Doctor. Bones might've given Jim his famous death glare, but the Captain did not cave. Jim couldn't explain why, but he was ready to punch someone right now, even if that person was Bones. It was clear that he meant it this time, compared to the other times he had threated it. Bones had taken it serious and had not pushed the issue. Maybe, it was the look in Jim's eyes that scared Bones. Whatever it was, Jim took it. He really couldn't deal with anything at the moment.

In the most uncomfortable chair, Jim sat at Pike's bed side, his tired eyes watching the Admiral's chest move ever so slowly. Bones, being the Good Doctor that he was, tried to force Jim to sleep or do something besides staring at Pike, who was in a medically induced coma, but Jim would not move from his spot, even with heavy threats. He would not be moved, even with threats of Hypos; Jim was stubborn and enraged. At some point, the Captain was expecting Bones to pull the Doctor card, disregarding Jim's anger, and have him removed. Bones would never admit to being scared of Jim's anger, but it was clear he was hesitating due to it. Granted, Bones also may not have pulled the card because he could keep an eye on him here. A stilled Jim was never a good thing.

"When was the last time you ate?" McCoy, equally exhausted, asked as he stepped into the room with a PADD in his hand. One of his eyebrows was raised, as he gave Jim a daring look.

Jim glanced up, his exhaustion showing. Soreness in his shoulder kept him stiff. "Two night ago? Last night?" His mind in loops, he didn't remember the last time, but it couldn't have been that long ago, right? Did it matter? He was fine.

McCoy let out a harsh sigh. "Jim," he replied, trying to be as gentle as he could. However, he sounded like a father scorning his child. "You need to eat."

"I'm fine," he replied through his teeth. What he need was to find Harrison and punch his face in. Once he did that, he would be fine. Everything would be fine.

Silent danced in the room for a few long seconds as Bones stood there awkwardly. Shakely, he opened his mouth a few times before closing it. There was a hard expression on his face, an expression that Jim had only seen a few times. Bones was used to dealing with Jim, but this was new for the both of them. "So… Are we going to talk now? Talk about the elephant in the room?" he asked, tucking the PADD away. "Jim, talk to me. I need you to talk to me."

The chair loudly skidded back and clapped loudly on the ground, as Jim jumped to his feet. Ignoring McCoy's flinch at the boisterous sound, he crossed to the window. They were too high to make out the faces in the crowd, but the street was alive with action. Security was everywhere, reviewing and checking everyone and everything. "Just say it," Jim demanded. God, he did not want to talk about this. He would rather talk about Spock, which was saying something especially after what Bones saw. Jim was practically in Spock's arms when Bones had pushed them off Pike. Even after Bones worked on stabilizing Pike, Spock did not move from Jim's side, creating a protective bubble. Overwhelmed, he had allowed it. Now, he was just confused.

"John Harrison." Bones said, folding his arm across his chest. "Are you okay? Be honest."

It was just Jim's luck to have dated/slept with a sociopath. Did he have some kind of sign on him? Jim didn't know whether to cry or laugh, though he was going with both. "There's nothing to talk about," he said, as calmly as he could. His hand went to his throbbing shoulder, rubbing it. "This doesn't change anything. I will hunt him down and kill him."

Bones' eyes went large. "Jim." He said, sounding both shocked and worried. "Do you hear yourself?"

Jim turned back, fighting his exhaustion. Even if he hadn't slept in the crappy chair, he would still feel like a zombie. He had no idea how he was still on his feet. With everything, sleep refused to come to the Captain, and all he could do was think. Jim would be lying if he said he wasn't thinking of revenge. His level of fury scared the Young Captain and sent him to a time he would have rather forget. "Don't give me that look!" he snapped, his voice raising.

"12 hours ago, you were in a damn firefight, Jim." McCoy replied, his voice rising. "I'm worried. So, shot me."

At times, McCoy felt more like a father than Jim's Best Friend. Maybe, it was the age difference. Maybe, it was the fact that McCoy was a father, and, at times, Jim needed one. Jim couldn't fault the man being overly protective of Joanne, as that little girl was the cutie thing ever. However, Jim didn't need it. He just needed his best friend. "Don't," he said through his teeth. "I'm fine."

Bones, with a huff, stepped toward Pike, looking over the readings from the biobed. He didn't like a few of the vitals, but it could be worse. "Cut the shit." His eyes paused over Pike's pale face. "I know what this man means to you, and to know it was Harrison who did it? Come on. I'm not an idiot. I'm your best friend." He let out a deep, wounded sigh, as he stepped away from the bed and toward Jim. He stared at Jim, his eyes drilling into him. "You're talking about taking someone's life. This isn't you!"

"But it is!" He snapped, throwing his hands up. "This is me."

"That's the anger talking! Once you're thinking clearly, you will see it." The worry was back in Bones' face. "I get it that Harrison is giving you flash back to him, but you can't let it control you."

"I. am. not." He said slowly and through his teeth. This had nothing to do with Salean. John—Commander Harrison was a traitor, and he needed to be taken down like the bastard that he was. Salean was behind him.

"Okay." Bones' eyes traveled up and down Jim's body. "Jim, Captain Pike wouldn't want this."

Jim kept his eyes forward. "Don't."

Hesitating, McCoy took a step forward. "Let's talk about something else." He said slowly. "Please let me look at you." He was looking at Jim like he was a scared animal in a corner.

Jim forced his mouth shut, slamming the words down his throat. He could feel himself choke on those words as he stared down his best friend. Bones was right: Jim wasn't acting like himself, but could you blame him? This was a shit show. Pike was in a coma fighting for his life, while multiple other people were dead. His ex-boyfriend tried to kill Senior command, after blowing up an archive. That was what got Jim. His Ex almost killed Pike, a man who had given Jim everything. He wouldn't say he shut down after the rape—even if that was exactly what he did before Pike dragged him back with a new ship. He kept things close to the vest; yet, Harrison broke past it all in record time.

Jim wasn't sure if he was madder at himself for being stupid or the fact that Harrison played him like a fiddle. As Bones stared at him, he couldn't help but flash back to everything that Harrison had ever said to him, which pissed him off even more. He couldn't help but ask/form questions in his head, painful questions he didn't have answers for. Was this a game to John? Did John play with him? Some sex toy? He must've wanted something from Jim for him to play with like a toy. What was it? Whatever it was, Jim felt sick.

Why did Bones have to bring this up? It was a plague and he couldn't stop himself. Jim, flashing a moment he would rather forget, felt nauseous as he remembered all the times, he fucken slept with the man. John wasn't the only person Jim had slept with since the rape, though the number was low. It was something he could count on one hand, protecting himself more. Nevertheless, John—Harrison, Jim kept reminding himself. That traitor didn't deserve to be called by his first name - was the first, and he had given Jim a piece of himself back. At first, Jim was grateful for it, but now, it felt tainted.

_(O(O)O)_

"Oh, you're back again?" Jim asked as he spotted John in the doorway of his classroom. With the light shining behind him, John was looking like an Angel. Jim's heart was already skipping.

John shit-grin smiled, as he pushed off the doorframe and made his way toward Jim. He looked picture perfect as he descended the aisle. "Why would I not be?" he asked, his smile taking up his whole face.

Jim glanced at the clock, staring at it for 30 seconds. He had time before his next class, but it was getting coffee time, not getting food time. Wait? Was he thinking about that? "I don't have much time," he said, glued under John's intensive stare. His blue eyed shined.

"Are they working you the bone, Kirk? What a shame!" John replied, his tone playful.

Unconsciously, a smile formed on Jim's face. "Well, some of us have to work, and I can't just take off work."

"Ouch," John replied, placing a hand to his chest and acting hut. His smile was beautiful, his teeth a perfect shade of white. "And here I thought you like me." His eyes tightened as he grinned.

Jim could feel the heat rising up through his body like some a heat wave. He was glued in place by those blue eyes. Shit. "I'm a Captain and a Professor. It's in a job description."

John laughed, and just like his smile, it was breath taking. The loud came from deep inside him and burst like a sun coming over the hillside. It shook his whole body. "I would like to see that description. Where can I find it?"

"So, is this why you came here?"

"I did not come for that," he replied, crossing the large classroom in no time. His blue eyes were plastered on Jim's face. Something lioness hid just behind his eyes. "I came here to ask you to dinner."

Jim's eyes widened, as his heart jumped in his chest. A memory of Spock passed before his eyes just for a second. "What?" he asked, his voice skipping.

The smile didn't falter from John's face. "A Date, Kirk." He declared as it was the most obviously thing. "I figure a man like yourself would know what one is. Just look at that face of yours." There was this undeniable warmth rolling off the man, as he drunk in the blond. "Unless, I am reading this wrong," he added, after a few moments of silence.

"No." Jim shouted, protesting a bit too loud. He paused for a second, seeing John's smirking face. "No!" he repeated, quickly. "I mean no, you aren't reading this wrong." He had no idea why he was acting like this. He had dated quite a few people, and this was no different. Sure, John Harrison was easy to talk to, and god, he was hot. Jim could admit that, even if his words were stuck deep in his throat. He wanted to yell at himself, telling himself to man up. He was James T. Kirk, a man who could charm out the ass. He was a lady's man and a tomcat; yet, he was tongue tied.

"Good," John grinned.

"Good."

If possible, John's smile just grew. "Tonight. 7pm. I will pick you up."

Jim's heart skipped. "Tonight?"

John's eyebrow rose, though the smile remained on his face. "Yes, Kirk. Is that a yes?"

"I wouldn't say no," Jim said, strongly. His stomach flipped as two different emotions danced in his stomach, almost at war at each other.

"Either way, 7pm."

"You came down here, just for that?" Jim asked, ignoring the strange sensation in his chest. Where the hell did his confidence did?

If possible, John's grin only grew. "Just that? No, I had to make sure you said yes. You're a little squirrelly." He gave Jim a knowing look. "I knew it would be harder for you to say no to his face." He pointed to his cheeks.

"I'm not squirrelly." Okay, this man was cocky. "And you think quite highly of yourself."

John took another step forward, placing a gentle hand on Jim's arm. "No, I think highly of you, and I didn't want to give you a chance to say no." His eyes were dancing cross his face, taking in every inch of Jim's face.

Red bloomed on Jim's cheeks. "7pm it is."

John chuckled. "Look at that face. I could stare at you all day."

Jim's eyes were large as he felt seconds away from exploding. "I've been told that a few times," Jim voiced, his voice squeaked. Deep breath, he took a step back and glanced up at the clock. "Well, I got a class in a few." He tried to force down the blush that had taken over half his face.

"Very well, Captain." He replied, stressing Jim's title once more. "See you at 7. It'll be a pleasure." He glanced over Jim's form one more time before he turned to leave. Jim, his head spinning, watched as John left. Even if a bomber jacket, there was no hiding John's firm, muscular body. God, just look at that round ass. He wouldn't help but wonder what John would look like without—Shit, no. No. No. What the hell? Was he really checking out John's ass, just watching it bounced left and right? Crap, he was strewed.

*O*O*

It was half passed six when Jim made it back to the apartment, and he was both physically and emotionally exhausted from the day. So many faces and so many questions. He didn't expect to be held over at the Academy for this long, but it was okay. He still had enough time to jump into the shower and get ready. It wasn't like he had much to do. He was a man. He pretty much knew what he was going to wear: a pair of nice jeans, a T-Shirt, and the famous leather jacket that John picked on. He didn't need anything else.

"Oh, look what we have here?" Bones teased, as the door slid closed behind the Captain. He was in the medium sized kitchen, looking somewhat lost, as he was pairing himself something to eat. "I expected you to beat me here."

Jim's eyebrow rose. Usually, it was Bones who got in later than Jim. The good Doctor must've just gotten out of the shower as his hair was still wet, dripping on his shoulder. Like Jim, Bones enjoyed a hot water shower and would opt to take one when possible. He must've been home for some time now. "I got pulled into a meeting at the last second. I'm going to jump in the shower."

Bones pulled out a fat, already seasoned steak from the fridge that he handpicked himself and set it on the counter. "Hungry? I'm just about to make dinner." He said. "Been awhile since I had a juicy steak. I'm been eyeing this baby for a while." He licked his lips.

Jim gave him a look. "Wait a second? Why do I always get green shit and you get a steak? I call bullshit."

McCoy just laughed. "Because I am the doctor."

"You're fired!" Jim said, snickered. "I'm getting me a new best friend."

"You'll be back in no time." Bones retorted back, scoffing. "You're a handful and the list of people who can handle you is small." He paused, thinking. "But I supposed you're my idiot." He pointed down at the steak with a knife. "You want one? I will let you have one tonight since I love you."

"Oh, you let me have one?" Jim narrowed his eyes. "Who's the Captain here?"

Bones smiled evilly. "But who is the Chief Medical Officer here?"

Jim just blinked, pondering how the hell he had gotten here. But did he regret it? "I doubt you can pull that card on land. CMO of nothing."

"You want to bet?" Bones asked. His eyes scanned the room, looking for his medical kit. Even with Jim's dating nerves, it scared him slightly. "Do you want one?"

Taking look around the 3-bedroom apartment, Jim saw it was just them for the moment. Chekov usually got in later than the both of them, working on ship until he was nothing more than a zombie. Bones grumbled annoyingly as Jim went into 'dad' mode and pestered the young Ensign into bed. "Nope, I'm good." He said, popping out the 'P.' "I'm going out tonight." He eyed the bathroom door.

"What?! Where? Who?" Bones asked, his head popping up. "What time you be back?"

Jim hesitated; his words glued to tongue. He wasn't even sure he wanted to go on this date, even if he was attracted to John, and yes, he was attracted to him. He could feel the heat growing in his belly at the mere thought of having something more with John. To feel those lips on his neck. For them to travel down—No, No. No. "A date," he stammered boisterously after noticing Bones' deep stare.

Bones' eyebrow shot up. "With that Commander Harrison I've been hearing about?"

Jim huffed. Bones had never met the man before, but Jim was sure that Bones could pick the man out of a line, considering how much Scotty and Chekov talked and/or complained about the man. "Yes," he said, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"You don't seem too happy about this," Bones spoke slowly. He stepped out from behind the counter. "Is this about…." He started slowly, tipping around the elephant in the room. He closed his mouth for a second before opening it again. Biting the side of his cheek, he asked, "I don't want to… know, but have you… Have you been with anyone else since…"

Just say it, Jim yelled in his head. Since I was raped. The answer was no—not because he wasn't interested-, but that wasn't what this was about. Well, not really. "No," he forced out.

Bones cocked to his head to the side. "Are you ready for this?"

"I'm good." Jim said as he unzipped his Professor jacket. "I'm James Kirk."

Letting out a deep breath, McCoy rounded the table to close the distance between them. "Is this about Spock?" He paused, looking for some kind of tell on Jim's face. "I know you loved him. Like really loved him, but… I think this will be good for you. You need to get to get out."

Hearing Bones used the world 'Loved' felt wrong. "I will always love Spock," Jim attested, softly. "I don't think that will ever change." Even now, he found himself wondering back to Spock daily. What was that Vulcan doing? Was he thinking of Jim?

Bones, a sad smile, nodded. "And there is nothing wrong with that. You just need to move on, even if none of us want to. So, go take a shower and get ready for your date. I got to find me a phaser."

Jim let out deep sigh. "A phaser, Bones? I don't know if I want you out here, when he comes."

"Okay, hypos. I have those and a medical license, so I would probably just stab him a few seconds and get away with it." With a Chester cat smile on his face, he rubbed his hands together.

"Bones," Jim chastised.

Bones gave him an innocent look. "What?" He asked, sincerely.

"I'm taking a shower," Jim replied, tossing his black professor jacket over the sofa. He glanced at the clock, knowing he didn't have a lot of time. "Don't kill him when he knocks." He didn't wait for Bones to respond, making his way to the bathroom. The doctor could've been speaking for all of Jim knew, but he tuned everything out. If he allowed himself to think, he would talk himself out of this. His heart was already racing, confusing him even more as time when on. The idea may scare him, but it also excited him. He needed to hold onto that idea. He needed to stop thinking and just do.

To do that, he asked himself random questions. How many doors were on the Enterprise? How many doors were in this apartment building? How many units were in this building? How many students did he have in total? How many shoes did he have? How many pairs of pants? How many shirts? How many times did he rip his shirt on an away mission? How many times had Pike looked at him funny? How many times had he made Pike laugh? He asked himself as many questions as he could, and when he couldn't think of any, he repeated the questions over again. If he didn't give himself any time to think, he wouldn't overthink this date. He would enjoy himself. He could do this. Jim, with a smile, stepped out of his room and slipping on his leather jacket.

Granted, that smile slipped off his face when he noticed the 'fun' party in the living room. Sometime while Jim was in the shower, Chekov had come home, and Harrison had appeared. With Bones, they were all crowded in the living room and eyeing each other like a three-man war. "Hello!" Jim said, loudly. Three heads spun, each with a forced smile. Crap, he thought catching John's blue eyes. Heat was building in his stomach and working its way up. "What are you three chatting about?"

"I think that is obvious, Kirk," John dragged out. "I am getting the shovel talk as if I would dare to hurt you. Besides, I am sure you can take care of yourself, Captain." That smile could kill. "Can you now?"

Chekov, protective scowl plastered on his face, turned back to John. "He zure can!" the Russian shouted. "However, that doesn't mean ve von't protect him."

Bones nodded his head, agreeing whole heartedly. "And he doesn't have to sleep with you if he doesn't want to," he gave Harrison a scowl. He was daring the man to do something. "You hear me?" His southern accent breaking through.

Red blossomed on Jim's face again. "Okay, that's enough," he choked. "Let's go!" In large steps, he crossed to Harrison and reached for his hand. When they made contact, Jim almost dropped it, the warmth surprising him. "I… think we better get out of here." He said, shaking himself out of it. With a smile, he pulled John to his feet, ignoring tingle in his hand. The Commander allowed the Captain to pull him to his feet and followed after him without a struggle.

"I agree. I am starving." John smiled, his lips curling.

Jim's mind froze again, stunned by the man's grin. Shit. "Good," he said, ignoring how his voice broke. Jim had tried to push everything aside as he pulled John to the door, but he wasn't that lucky.

Chekov's eyes had not left John, eyeing him like he was the devil himself. "Вы знаете, что мы делаем на русском языке? Он не будет длиться секунду," he grumbled, his annoyance very present in his voice.

John's eyes brow rose, the smile changing slightly. "Тебе нечего бояться со мной. Я не причиню ему вреда."

The Russian's eyes went large, and his face turned a bright cherry red. "Yov speak Russian."

"Why of course," John replied.

Like the young Russian that he was, Chekov started to rumble – in Russian that was, even Bones' eyes were large. John replied back in perfect Russian, a smirk appearing in his face as he spoke. It was at this point that a suddenly shy Chekov and cheery John got into a full-blown conversion in Russian. Neither Bones nor Jim had any clue to what they were saying with the only thing they could do was wished for a translator. Whatever they were saying, Bones and Jim were missing out judging by Chekov's angry tone, and it was pissing Jim off. He didn't need a babysitter and he could take care of himself.

Bones, channeling his inter old man, grabbed Jim by the arm and harshly pulled him aside. There was a bit of hesitation lingering in Jim, who eyed the scene unfolding in front of him. "Come here," The Doctor said softly. "I want to chat for a sec."

Jim let out a groan before following Leonard to the kitchen. "What?" he asked, casting one last look at John and Chekov.

"I'm being honest. If you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to sleep with him," his best friend told him. His eyes were drilling into Jim, seriousness creeping into his face. "You don't have to. Don't let him guilt you into it."

At some point, this would stop right? That people would stop telling him this? Jim was tired of this crap. "I had sex before. I'm not some blushing virgin." He hissed, folding his arm across his chest.

Bones looked taken back. "I'm aware. Trust me." He paused, the words struggling to come out. He loudly slapped his face, rubbing the side of his cheeks. "But this is different."

This wasn't different. He wasn't different. "I'm fine. You've to trust me," Jim said, his voice strained. He wasn't some case to be studied and pulled apart.

"Jim."

Jim let out a harsh sigh. "I'm fine. Trust me. I know myself and I know my limits. Know that." Sure, there was this anxiety burning a hole into a chest, but that was normal. There was nothing wrong with him. Nerves were normal. He was normal. This was normal.

Bones let out a deep sigh. "Okay, but I'm here. Know that."

"I do." Jim smiled as he pulled away. He turned his attention back to Chekov and John. Chekov's face was still a red with anger was bubbling through. John, on the other hand, looked smug and collected like he had won the royal fight. "Commander," Jim said with his Captain Smile on. "Time to go. Unless you want to stay here?"

John turned quickly and his expression turned into an excited grinned. "Oh, Captain. I would follow you to the end."

Bones let out a puking sound, as he stuck out his tongue. "Oh, god. I'm going to be sick."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Good thing your doctor," He laughed.

"They say Doctors make the worse patients," John added before Bones would reply. "I supposed that would prove true here."

Bones' eye begun to twitch. "GO! Before I hypo you both. I don't know you, Harrison, but I will hypo you."

John's eyebrow rose. "I do believe that breaks your medical oath. Should we be worried about his other patients?"

Jim knew he shouldn't laugh, but it just busted out him and he couldn't stop. "I think we better go. He's going to kill you." Right now, Bones looked like an angry bull, ready to strike. Before anyone else could respond, Jim grabbed John once more by the hand and pulled him toward the door. Once more, the heat was back.

It wasn't until the door slide open that Jim heard Bones' angry response, "He's just as bad as the hobgoblin!"

There was a questioning look from John, but Jim ignored it. He also ignored the pounding in his chest at the sound of Bones' nickname for Spock. If he allowed himself to go down that hole, there would be no coming back. He wasn't lying before, he would always love Spock, no matter how much time has passed. However, he had to move forward. If he kept living in the past, he wouldn't grow, and shit, he couldn't live in this hole anymore. Granted, with John's warm hand in his own hand, Jim couldn't help but smile.

John was warm, and god, Jim could melt in his pleasant and warmed eyes. How could he not feel 'normal' in eyes like that? He was looking at him, not his title. Not his past. John was looking at him. Shit, he could already feel the affection building in his chest, and there was a part of Jim, old cocky Jim, that wanted to jump the Commander now. However, he didn't sleep with John that night or on their next night out. The urge was there, but Jim, following Bones' advise, didn't put that pressure on himself. He just let himself enjoy the night. It was one of his better ideas.

_(O(O)O)_

"Jim. Maybe, you should call Dr. Jones. Jim."

Kirk ferociously shook his head, forcing the memories out. "Don't Jim me, and I don't need Dr. Jones." He grinded his teeth together, trying to control his anger. "I need Harrison. He played me. I was his plaything." McCoy was at a loss of words as he opened and closed his mouth a few times. In Bones' confusion, he stated, "I'm going to kill him. He won't-"

The door to the room slid opened, drawing everyone's attention, and without wasting a second, Lieutenant Saavik stepped through. In one hand, she held a PADD, and in the other, she held what appeared to be a brown takeout bag. "Captain." She greeted, eyeing the scene in front of her. "Are you alright?"

Jim softened at the sight of her. "Saavik," he spoke, forgetting his anger for the moment. His eyes dropped from her face to the bag in her hand. "What you have there?"

"This is for you." Saavik, perfect in her blue shirt, pretty much ignored Bones and closed the distance between Jim and herself. She held the bag to Jim, a neutral expression on her face. "You are my Captain. Your wellbeing is my duty." Bones snorted, which the Vulcan disregarded. "I knew you would not leave Admiral Pike's side, even to nourish yourself. This is unacceptable, so I took it upon myself to bring you sustenance."

"You didn't have to," Jim replied, taken back slightly, as he took the bag from her.

"You are correct. I did not need to, but you are my Captain. It is not a hamburger, but it is suitable nonetheless." She spoke.

Opening the bag, Jim glanced in; a smile formed on his face see two breakfast burritos. It was not a hamburger, but it would be awesome all the same. "It is. Thank you."

Bones let out a loud, harsh snort. His eye twitching. "Of course. If I tried this, it is 'not now, Bones.' 'I can't, Bones.' 'Later, Bones.' But here comes a pretty woman, and you're like, 'Thank you,' while batting your pretty blue eyes." He mumbled some words to himself. "I think I need boobs."

Saavik turned to the Doctor and nailed him with a very Vulcan glare. "Please keep your inappropriate comments to yourself, Doctor." She kept her glare on him. "And if Captain Kirk listens and takes my advice, it is because I treat him as an adult and not a child. Maybe, if you act like a professional medical personal, the Captain will take you seriously."

"Why you!" McCoy sneered between his teeth.

Jim could see the tension in the room like a neon sign in a black sky. "Hey, Hey." He yelled as he unwrapped one of his burritos. He waved it in the air trying to get their attention. When both set of eyes settled on him, he, channeling his inter fool, took a big, comical bite. He was making a show out of it, trying to make both Saavik and Bones happy. "This is good," he said, making a mess out of it. It worked as both were giving him strange, concerned looks. He let out a boisterous moan, taking another big bite.

"Okay, I feel dirty now," Bones murmured, turning away to check on Pike. "But at least the idiot is eating." He spared a glance to Jim, who chopping on it. His eyes softened, his concern still present.

Saavik's eyebrow rose, but she did not move from Jim's side. Her eyes were locked on Jim's chin as he chewed. Tiny pieces were falling out of his mouth unto his shirt. "It is not logical to eat like that."

It took Jim very little time to stuff the burrito down his throat, avoiding choking himself. He wouldn't admit it to Bones, but he was starving and wouldn't have gotten food for himself. Saavik was a life savior, especially when she pulled him out of that irate mood. This peace may not last long, but it gave him foresight. He needed that. "Do I need to remind you that I'm James Kirk?" he asked, his voice softened. "I shy away from nothing." There was no power behind it like there normally was. His heart flickered, catching Pike's heartbeat on the monitor.

"Captain-" Saavil started but interrupted. The door slid open, which clued an outburst from Bones. "Who is it now?" he growled, though still trying to keep his voice down.

"Doctor McCoy," Spock greeted as he stepped into the room. He was in his dress uniform—a fresh pair- unlike the rest of them, and he looked impeccable. "Captain," he called. His eyes dropped from Jim and focused on how close Saavik was to Jim. "Lieutenant."

The tension was back as the two Vulcan coldly stared at each other. Neither moved to make the famous Vulcan greeting to the other in some kind of silent fight. It was peculiar. "Commander," Saavik addressed. There was an edge to her voice that anyone besides Jim would miss.

As Admiral Pike was in command of the Enterprise with Spock as his first Officer, it made sense for Spock to visit Pike, but that didn't mean his presence didn't shock Jim, who just stood there and stared. With everything going on, Jim hadn't been able to process his returning feelings that shot up through him. Not that he had feelings. It was just he couldn't understand what drove Spock to do what he did. "Commander," Jim squeezed out.

Bones' eyes narrowed, noticing a bag behind Spock's back. "What do you have there?" Bones asked, cutting the returning tension. The amount of tension in this room could kill a person.

Spock's eyes snapped toward McCoy before turning back to Jim, looking past Saavik. "I brought the Captain some food." He answered, revealing a very similar bag to what Saavik had brought.

"Why?" Jim asked, side stepping Saavik.

"I am well aware of your tendencies, Captain. In times of stress, you tend to forgo your own comfort, and eating is one of those things," Spock answered. "I brought you food to ensure that this did not happen."

Bones, trying to keep his tone down as they were in a hospital room, let out a chuckle. "In that case, give me that. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday." He demanded, crossing to the Commander and pulling the bag from him.

Spock gave Bones a nonglare glare. "I brought this for Captain Kirk, not you."

"I have already brought food for my Captain." Saavik answered, moving to the side and revealing the bag in Jim's hand.

"Very well," Spock articulated, allowing McCoy to take the bag.

Jim watched as the bones in Spock's face twitch. They were unnoticeable to anyone besides Jim, who had sent hours staring at Spock's face in the past. He could still see the Vulcan's tells, and that hit him harder than he expected. Before Jim could respond, his communicator chirp. All eyes darted the Captain. "Kirk, here," he said, bringing it to his ear.

Out came Scotty voice, "Captain! I found something in the crashed jumpship, Sir. I know how the bastard got away." There was so much fury in Scott's voice that it shook Jim. Having worked alongside John as well, Scotty was just as angry as Jim was.

"What do you mean?" Jim asked, his Captain Mask on. He ignored the pointed looks from the rest of the room.

"It's a portable transwarp beaming device." Scotty answered.

Jim forced himself to breathe through his nose. "Can you figure out where he went?"

Scotty took a few seconds to answer. Heavy metal sounds could be heard in the background. "I already did, sir, and you're no gonna like it. He's gone to the one place, we can't go." Scotty was right, but that did not mean Jim wasn't going to try.

Snapping the communicator closed, he pocketed the device. "I got to go." He said, loudly and quickly, as he turned to the door. Without another thought, he threw the bag and the remaining burrito in the trash.

"Captain," Spock and Saavik both called. Concern lacing through their voice.

"Jim," Bones yelled, following after him for a few steps.

Jim paused for a second, glancing back at each of them. He paused on Pike, his eyes checking his vitals. Anger flushed through him again and drove him forward. He could not allow Harrison to get away with this, even if that turned Jim into something that he was not. He was going to kill that man. "I gotta go." He said and bolted out the door.

*O*O*

Jim had expected the Vulcans to follow, especially after the show in Pike room. It was why he took random short cuts through the campus, trying to pull distance if they were. It wasn't as if he didn't want them to know. He was going to Marcus, nothing wrong with that. This was just something he had to do on his own. Plus, he needed to speak to the Admiral on his own in case the man knew. It wasn't as if Jim knew John would turn into a crazy terrorist, but this wasn't something he wanted either Vulcans to know, especially Spock. Sure, Spock wasn't his First Officer anymore. He wasn't his anything, but he couldn't stomach Spock knowing. What would the Vulcan say if knew that Jim defiled himself with Commander Harrison? Would he be just as disgusted with Jim as Jim was? Whatever happened, Jim could not stand to see an ounce of disappointment on Spock's face.

By the time Jim reached the Admiral's office, he was out breath, and his lungs were pounding in his chest, threatening to pop out, but he did not stop. He burst through the doors, yelling as he went. "Admiral, sir, he's not on Earth." He took a deep breath, rushing toward the center of the room. "He's on Qo'noS, sir. I request your permission to go after him." It was after the words burst out of his mouth that Kirk noticed the meeting Marcus was conducting.

Marcus, irritated, glanced around at the room at the other Admirals. "Give us a minute." He ordered. He waited for everyone could file out before he asked, "Qo'noS?"

Jim, straightening himself out, answered, "Yes, sir." He was a bit mortified.

"So, Harrison's gone to the Klingon homeworld. ls he defecting?" Marcus asked; his eyes narrowed at Kirk. It was unnerving to say the least with the Admiral's eyes all over him.

"Er, not sure, sir." Jim answered, shivering under the Man's stare. Why did Marcus keep staring at him like this? Did he know? "He's hiding in the Ketha Province, an uninhabited region. He knows if we even go near Klingon space, it'd be all-out war. Starfleet can't go after him, but I can. Please, sir." He had to be the one to take down the man. He had to be with everything that Harrison did. The desire to kill him was there, blooming under the skin. It was a dark desire, and no matter how hard he tried to fight it, it was there poisoning him.

"An all-out war with the Klingons is inevitable, Mister Kirk." Marcus explained, his eyes piercing Kirk. "If you ask me, it's already begun. Since we first learned of their existence, the Klingon Empire has conquered and occupied two planets that we know of and fired on our ships half a dozen times. They're coming." He paused for a second, thinking. His eyes drifted to the line of Model Starship he had before turning back to Kirk. "London was not an archive. It was a top-secret branch of Starfleet: designated Section 31. They were developing defense technology and training our officers to gather intelligence on the Klingons and any other potential enemy who means to do us harm." He turned from Jim once more. A heavy expression fell onto his face. "Harrison was one of our top agents."

Jim's head is swimming with all of the info that Marcus had just told him. "Now, he's a fugitive," he hissed. "I want to be the one to get him. I need to be the one to take him out." While he didn't know if Marcus knew the truth, he had assigned the man to the Providence for a sometime; he knew that Harrison worked hand and hand with his crew.

Marcus's expression changed, hardened. "I don't think that would be wise."

"Sir. It should be me I-" Jim started before the Admiral cut him off.

"There's something that you are leaving out. Isn't there, Captain?"

Jim was stiff. "I don't know what you're taking about. I know you're aware that Commander Harrison worked on Providence, but that is it." He forced back the memories once more, choosing to ignore the feeling in his chest.

Marcus didn't answer right way, his eyes hostile. "Can I be frank with you, Son?"

"Yes, Sir." Jim answered, unsure of what else to say.

"Good," the Admiral nodded, a cold expression took over. "Because I don't want there to be any confusion between us." He picked up a glass off the table, slipping from it before sitting it down. "You have no ship, Kirk. Even if I wanted to send you, the Providence is grounded. I'm sure Commander Scott will need time to fix it, more than a few hours. Scott is impressive but he isn't that impressive."

Fuck, Jim cursed in his head. He had forgotten about that in his anger, which pissed him off. He could still do this. "Give me the Enterprise!" he yelled, it bursting out of him. His heart pounded in his chest.

"Instead of trying to steal Chris's ship, go back to his side. I believe he would want you there at his side when he wakes rather than you off into space getting revenge. Pike always said you were one of our best and brightest, so prove it. Go back to his side and don't worry about retribution." Marcus ordered. "He will need you."

There was a battle waging inside of Jim. His heart was being ripped apart. He didn't want to leave Pike's side, but he had to get Harrison. He had to. "I need to get Harrison."

Something sparked in Marcus's eye. Something dangerous "Is it Harrison now?"

"What?"

"Is. He. Harrison. Now. Boy?" he asked slowly. His voice was bizarrely calm but dangerous.

Warning signs were going off in Jim's head, but there was no escaping. It was clear what the Admiral was implying. "Admiral Marcus," he softly begged.

The Admiral did not let up. "Did you call him Harrison when he was fucking you?" Marcus asked, his tone neutral. However, there was this cold edge to his voice.

Jim's eyes widened as he stumbled back. "What?" His heart was pounding in his ears. Was this the twilight day?

Marcus took another drink before slowly sitting his glass down. "Commander Harrison doesn't seem like the type to bottom for anyone, even for you, Kirk." He paused, taking in Jim's face. There was a hint of shame and embarrassment mixed in his blue eyes and the Admiral basked in it. "How many times, Kirk?"

This was where Jim's brain exploded. If this was a cartoon, there would be an explosion above his head. "Admiral Marcus," Jim shuttered. What the hell?

"How many times has Commander Harrison fucked you, Kirk? It isn't a hard question." The Admiral tone was disturbingly soft, despite the words coming out of his mouth. "I expected a Captain to be able to count."

Jim was brain dead; his lungs were on fire. His hand went to his chest, slightly pulling at his shirt. There were many conversions that he had envision himself having with the Admiral. His sex life was not one of those things. "Sir. I don't know how that matters."

"Doesn't it? Hm?" Marcus was being anything but nice. "Do you think it wise to send Commander Harrison's boyfriend after him? What would people say?" he inquired with a harsh 'hmed'. "I am just trying to protect you, boy."

Jim forced himself to take a few deep breathe as he was about to explode. "I am not his boyfriend." And he was not a boy.

"Oh, fuck toy? I don't know what you folks call it now." He waved his hand in the air.

If there was a list of words that he never expected out of Marcus's mouth, fuck toy was at the top. "I am not that either, Admiral. I am Captain James T. Kirk. A Famous Starfleet Captain."

"Be it so, Captain, but the Media will roast you alive if they were to find out. And if you failed, your career would be over. Your crew's career could be over. You could possibly be jailed, blasted as a Traitor. Not even Pike could save you. It wouldn't take much for the Media to believe you assisted Harrison. I'm simply trying to protect you." He said, a grin appearing on his face. "Starfleet cannot withstand press like that."

Something wasn't right; Jim could feel it in his gut. This didn't feel like Marcus was watching out over him. It felt like he was being led to his death. However, he was carelessly pushing that aside. He was too blinded by his angry to walk away. "It will not, Sir. Harrison won't get away. Nothing will stop me. I can promise you that. He hurt my family, nothing else matters." He also didn't voice how disgusting Harrison made him feel. "I will get him."

Marcus narrowed his eyes at Jim. "You said the province where Harrison is hiding is uninhabited?"

Jim took breath. "Yes, Sir."

The Admiral turned to his desk and picked up the PADD. He turned it on and switched to a file on the desktop. "As part of our defensive strategy, 31 developed a new photon torpedo." He called up hologram, which popped it up in front of Jim. "Long range and untraceable, it will be invisible to Klingon sensors. I don't want you hurt. When Pike comes to, I don't want him to kill me, but like you, I want to take Harrison out. You will park on the edge of the Neutral Zone, lock onto Harrison's position, fire and kill him. Then you haul ass, Kirk."

"Does this mean you are giving me back the Enterprise?" he asked.

"Yes."

Jim nodded, ignoring his pounding heart. He may have the Providence, but he would always miss the Enterprise. "Commander Scott and I will get on this."

Marcus left out an angry sigh. "No, Kirk. Commander Scott is needed on the Providence for repairs."

"Then I can-"

"I will reinstate Mister Spock as your First Officer for this assignment. It's your ship anymore, Kirk. You can bring Doctor McCoy, Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Saavik, but you will use the Enterprise crew."

Jim's nails dug into his palm. How the hell was supposed to have Spock as his XO when he could barely look at him? "Sir, with all due respect, you think that is wise?"

Marcus shot him with a look. "If you want to hunt down Harrison, it will be with Commander Spock at your side. With two Vulcans at your side, I can be assured that you will keep a level mind."

That feeling was back: something was off. However, to push now would mean he would lose his chance at getting Harrison, and he would stop at nothing to kill that man. "Yes. Sir."

"Good."

Author Note:

The End for now!

I would like to mention that everyone get over trauma differently. This is the same with Jim, and no matter how much time has past, you can still find yourself back in that moment. So keep that in mind.

And Oh, shit. What is Marcus game? That man is clearly up to something. O_O

But at least Spock and Jim would be on the same ship?