I am sorry this took so long to get out. I kept getting distracted and my mine hadn't been in the best place. Please take care of your mental heath!

I like this chapter, even if it took me forever. Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 14:

Gone

Jim was dead.

The kind, wonderful James T. Kirk was dead. Jim, a captain who would give up everything for his crew, sacrificed himself.

He was dead.

Dead.

Dead. His mind not able to wrap itself around it.

Jim's body hunched over and motionless, his eyes glassy and cold.

Something essential shattered inside Commander Spock, contaminating everything it came into contact with. Fury and rage bloomed like weeds from the infected parts, taking him over. It was blinding and corrupted every logical thought he held, destroying all the qualities that made Spock him and turning him into the blood thirsty beast of legend. Before, Spock would have feared this, would have protested the very thought of it, but now, he bathed himself in this fury. Soaked himself to the bone.

Jim's lifeless dim blue eyes would forever haunt him.

Dead Jim.

Frigid, limp Jim.

This did not compute. Jim couldn't be dead. He couldn't.

Cold lifeless eyes.

Spock had perfect recall. He had the exasperating ability to recall the most trivial detail in exact order. Most found it annoying when he played these facts back flawlessly. Some found it grating: his ability to give computerize reports in minutes, even beating the computer at times. The task didn't matter. Spock could recall it perfectly. Yet, after Jim's death, his mind was a dense haze. His words and thought were repeatedly lost in his head and warped in his anger. He heard it was a common experience after a lost for one's memories and processing abilities to fail, but he never expected his mind to fail this degree. Was it dying too? It was like he lost his Vulcan side in the chaos of his human side. Spock, the most logical and precise Star Fleet Officer there was, would ponder and assess this moment for the next few years, trying to recall and piece together what happened this day.

He didn't recall how he came upon the bridge, just found himself there asking for an update. Without an injury to his person, he found himself lost in his own tormented mind, his body screaming in pain as if his arm had been ripped off. His mind couldn't understand the pain that ravenous it. Every touch, every thought, every word overwhelmed him. His mind, his treasured brain had forsaken him, casting a heavy shadow upon him. Having an out of body experience, he vaguely recalled giving the order to beam down. Everything faded into the dark nothingness around him, stealing any sense of him. It was as if he died when James Kirk took his final painful breath.

Anger simmered under his skin, piercing every part of Spock. Jim, the once brilliant Captain who saved Earth—twice now-, was nothing more than a shell.

An empty shell.

An empty shell, which would never be full again, shared back at him with cold blue eyes slicing deep into his katra.

Because Jim was dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

Spock had to repeatedly remind himself as even with proof, his once rational mind kept trying to delete that fact from its walls. His mind refused to wrap itself around this fact. Refused to admit that his beloved Jim was deceased. And every time he reminded himself, his anger soared. Incensed at both Khan and himself. Him for failing his Captain. This anger was toxic and there was only one person he wanted to turn it on.

With the Vengeance crashing on Earth and casting a dense black smoke into the air, screams from the surface filled the air, drowning out all reason. The waves created on impacted washed out the surrounding area, drown any poor soul that was too close. Unfortunately, that was any poor soul within 3 miles. Several buildings crumbled beneath the weight of the black ship while others collapsed under the burden of the debris. Each filled with people, who was now either entombed or smashed under the rumble. Some were-

Jim's dull eyes flashed before him, his hand reaching out to him. Crying out in pain. Wanting it to stop. Looking for Spock to save him, to take care of him.

But Jim was met with dead.

A death filled with agony.

All of this was meaningless to the Half Vulcan. Okay, the word meaningless wasn't the best to describe it, but all distractions disappeared when Spock's feet hit the ground. His mind was solely focused on Khan and cold revenge for Kirk's death. The burning revenge went against everything that he was, destroying everything he had learned. His fury flooded every fiber of his being, demanding blood. His hands moved back and forth as he zig zagged through the scared crowd, their screams nothing to him. When tomorrow rolled around and his prize claimed, Spock wouldn't be able to recall much besides the back of Khan's head and his face under his fist.

Khan, his stolen jacket flying up around him, launched himself with impressive strength on a garbage scow that was taking off. Without hesitating, Spock followed, leapt, and grabbed the side of the scow. His nails scrapped the across the warm metal, breaking under the impact; ignoring the pain, he pulled himself up. He wobbled when he got to his feet as the strong wind assaulted him, almost kicking out his legs from beneath him. No human would've been able to keep their balance on the moving scow for long. Yet, it wasn't the wind that knocked Spock off his feet. Khan, lip curling sneer, wasted no time in charging Spock and bring them both down hard.

Spock failed.

Failed.

He failed his beloved.

The brilliant light of Jim Kirk was gone. An ancient beast boisterously roared inside of Spock, the likes that hadn't been heard or seen in centuries. It demanded blood, life for the death of his mate, his soulmate. The hungry beast would not be pleased until Khan's head was ripped cleaned from his body and tossed into a volcano. He would not stop until his hand was soaked blood. This very state would have baffled the Vulcan hours ago and disgusted him a few days ago. The very thought would have stopped him cold, but now, it drove him forward.

"Oh, Commander, what got your panty twisted?" Khan cruelly teased as he kicked Spock in the chest, knocking him back. Spock's back slammed into garbage scow by the force.

Spock growled as his phaser slipped from his hand and slid out of his reach and off the scow. He wasn't one to converse during a fight, but Spock desired to scream at him until he was hoarse. In a struggle with himself, Spock kept his words to himself as he rolled to his feet. They crossed to the other in a predatory motion, trading punches until Spock saw an opening and performed a Vulcan neck grip, or rather, he attempted to as Khan managed to break it in 5 seconds. Khan scowled coldly and exchanged a few more punches. No matter the number of punches thrown, they didn't slow. Even if Spock's arms burned, he did not stop.

Jim's eyes were dull, his head limped to the side.

He was dead.

Dead.

Spock's other half was gone.

This level of contact did not last for long. It was clear after a while that Spock was at a physical disadvantage. In the grand scheme of things, humans were a weak species, overpowered by the weakest of aliens. Spock, even as a half Vulcan, could easily defeat a human, but Khan wasn't normal and was quickly gaining the upper hand. His strength could not be matched, and after a few minutes of trading blows, Spock went on the defensive. His arms tired after the endless blows from Khan. Seeing Spock's arms drop for a second, Khan went for the head and squeezed once he was able to wrap his hands around Spock's skull.

"Will James mourn your death?"

The pressure was unbearable, and a seer moment of panic rushed through him as the tension rose. Hearing Jim's name cross Khan's lips pushed the Vulcan forward. His arms weak, Spock reached up and attempted a mind meld to break free. Unprepared, Khan, feeling the strain of the mental attack, screamed, his eyes rolling back slightly. For a second, it looked like it would work, but that hope was short lived. Using all of his strength, Khan violently bucked forward, knocking Spock off his feet for a second before he caught himself, and this was all Khan needed to break the hold fully and jumped to another garbage scow. Spock, only allowing himself a moment to recovered, followed. His communicated beeped as Spock's feet touched down on the second scow and rolled to absorb the impact. He ignored the beep, as Khan and he charged at the other. And once more, Spock was on his back, defending himself from Khan's fists.

Khan, his own ire sported on his face, paused for a second, pulling back. His eyes drilled into Spock's now bruised, bloody face. "I could never understand why James would love someone like you?"

Jim was beautiful.

His soul was innocent.

His smile lit up the night sky.

He was life itself.

Jim's name sparked something deep inside of Spock. How dare this beast mentioned Jim's name? "Do not speak his name," the Vulcan roared. "You do not get to say his name." His hand shot out, reaching for anything he could get grab. He wasn't exactly sure what his bloody fingers wrapped themselves around until he dug his nails into it, but he ripped off one of the panels and swing it at Khan. Khan saw it coming, but he was unable to dodge it completely. It clipped him in the face before he was able to knock it out of Spock's hands.

Blood dripping from his noses and eyes, Khan, his hair flocking in the wind, recovered quickly enough, his eyes sharp. "Jealous, Spock?"

The edge of Spock's lips curled, a wet growl escaped from his chapped lips. "You killed him." he hissed as he pushed himself to his feet and picked back up his makeshift weapon. Khan's expression changed for a split second, a disturbed look of surprised crossed his bloody face. Spock, his inter beast roaring, used that moment of shock and launched himself like a rocket at Khan. His communicator beeped again but went ignored as he tackled Khan to the ground.

Unfortunately, Spock's position on top didn't last long as Khan grabbed him and rolled until he was on top. "He is dead?" Khan asked, his voice abnormally high. His blue eyes betrayed him for a second.

Jim's once striking blues eyes destroyed.

Even with Khan above him—his hands on Spock's head for the second time-, Spock found this show of emotions as strange. He knew Jim and Khan had a sexual relationship, a relationship that torn at his insides. Not because Spock was jealous, though that wouldn't be inaccurate, but rather, this man had twisted a beautiful garden, a garden that had just started to rebloom, setting it ablaze. Even if Jim lived, Spock would kill Khan just for that alone. Granted, as Khan's hand squeezed his head, he was left wondering if he would be joining him soon.

Jim's smiling face lit up the sky, creating new stars.

He was waiting.

No, Jim would not be waiting for him.

Jim died with a broken heart as Spock betrayed him.

His vision went dark for a second as the whistle of the wind overwhelmed his ears. Knowing only pain, he allowed himself to drift into the darkness, dying to Jim's bright smile. That peaceful bliss only lasted for a second as Jim's broken, gory body flashed before his eyes. Any bliss died at that image. This renewed his anger once more, but his strength remained the same and could not compare to Khan's. His renewed anger could not serve him for long, and the darkness returned with force. However, luck was on his side it seemed when Khan was suddenly ripped off him and struck by a few stings from a phaser. Spock spared his savior, Saavik, a fleeing look before he jumped Khan, not caring if he would be hit. Not caring if his own green blood poured down his face. If his father saw him now, he would not recognize the beast he had become, as he slammed his fist down on Khan's face.

"Commander," Saavik spoke loudly, her phaser still up.

Spock didn't spare her a look as his hand came back red. He continued to strike.

Jim was dead.

Punch.

Dead.

Punch.

Dead.

Punch.

Jim's smile slowly disappeared from Spock's face, replaced with a sullen face on a broken skull.

Khan's shirt in hand, Spock froze at the sound of Saavik's voice. "Commander!" she yelled, her voice much louder than before. A sound of a phaser heating up again sung. "Commander Spock, cease!" She took a step forward. "We have a way to save the Captain. We need him alive." Her voice was strangely cold.

Jim.

Jim.

Jim.

His anger dissipated a big as Jim's beaming grin stared up at him, a firm hand on his shoulder. His fist stopping midair, Spock froze at the sound of Jim's title, his brain malfunctioning. He glanced back at the female Vulcan, reading her stern expression on her face. Even though he wanted to believe Saavik, it wasn't possible. While Doctor McCoy was a fine doctor, no one could bring back the dead. However, Vulcans didn't lie. So as impossible as this seemed, this could not be a lie. Lying was illogical and solved nothing; Saavik could not be lying. He gave Saavik one last look before turning back to Khan.

His dark eyes filled with rage, the beast inside of him refused to backdown without its pound of flesh. Yet, this could save Jim. This could put the light back into Jim. The beast could relax at that. Letting out a harsh puff of air, he threw one last punch, knocking Khan out. They needed Khan, not his face. A broken face would not hurt anything.

Jim's bright blue eyes.

His smile as large as the moon.

Jim was home.

*O*O*

Normally, an Admiral and a Captain would have separate hospital rooms with extended stays but Admiral Pike and Captain Kirk were currently sharing a room that outlooked the bay. When Chris opened his eyes, the first words out of his lips were Jim's name, like any good father. His eyes went to the empty chair beside his bed, expected Jim to be there, but when he saw the empty seat, he panicked. Bones couldn't tell you why or how the man knew something was wrong, but he did. When Leonard walked into the room check on him, Pike demanded answers, pulling rank when the Doctor hesitated.

Having just awaken, barely out of the woods, McCoy didn't want to put more on Pike. Didn't want to stress out the Admiral even more. Star Fleet command would have his head if something went wrong with Admiral Pike. Shit, Jim would've his head if something went wrong with Pike. There was no denying the bond between these two: a relationship that mirrored a father and son.

"Now," Pike demanded, his voice gravelly. Due to his injuries, he had a tube down his throat to help him breath, and it had been removed a day before.

Leonard's eyes drifted down Pike's body, counting every visible injury he could see. Besides the damage lungs, Pike's legs were his major concern, being good chance he would never walk again. "Admiral, your injuries are-"

"I. Do. Not. Care," Pike replied, firmly. "Tell me!" When McCoy didn't answer, he added, "That's an order, Doctor McCoy. What happen to Jim." The venom behind his bit was real.

Father like son, Bones thought, forcing himself from rolling his eyes. "All due respect, Admiral, you're not in charge here. I am. My duty is your health." He stated standing his ground

Pike's eyes darkened. "What happened?"

"What?"

"What happened," Pike repeated slowly, his nose flaring. "What happened with Commander Harrison? Did something happen to Jim?" His voice croaked, his words get stuck in his dry throat, as he tried to push himself up but failing, his elbows unable to support him.

"Hold Up," Leonard huffed as he crossed to the bed. "Let me get that." Under Pike's intense glare, he moved the bed into a sitting position. "You've been out for a week. Your body is still weak."

Pike violently puffed. "Leonard." The Admiral was one of the few people who could make Leonard's name feel like a threat. "Tell me."

Leonard glanced in direction of Jim's room, his heart heavy. "I don't know if I'm the best person for the job. Commander Spock would be better-"

"Leonard."

Letting out the large breath he didn't know he was holding, Leonard gave the short version of what happened. He was tempted to leave out the part about Jim's relationship with Khan, but Jim's anger could not be explained without it. As the tale processed, the remaining color in Pike's slowly drained from his face, and when Leonard got to Jim's excruciating death, Pike looked like he was holding back puke and having a heart attack at the same time, his hand clutching at hospital grown. The heart monitor registered the increase in his heartbeat, signaling to Doctor with a boisterous beep. "He's okay." He quickly explained.

"T-take me to him." he ordered, his hand shaking as he yanked off the blanket, his eyes large with concern.

"Admiral!" Leonard shouted, throwing his tablet down and rushing to Pike's side. In his manic, craze state, Pike was flinging himself around in a failed attempt to get out of bed with no second thought to his state. "Your legs!" He raced to the bed, barely able to catch Pike before he toppled over the edge. "I got you."

"What the hell?!" Pike shrieked, while glaring at his useless legs. While helping Pike back into bed, Leonard explained the injuries to his legs, which didn't go over well. However, his anger seemed dulled by Jim's dim status. Pike gave his legs only a second of thought before his focus returned to Jim. "Take me to him." He insisted right then to be moved into Jim's room, wanting to be close after hearing of Jim's near death…Not, near death. His actual death. The idea that Jim died shook Pike to the core, so much so that Leonard's own heart felt it. Pike, having used all of this strength, might've drifted off into unconsciousness after giving the order, but no one dared to object. Besides, Leonard was hoping this would be beneficial to Jim, who hadn't stirred in a week.

Doctor McCoy, worried, stressed, and exhausted, was a dead man walking, barely able to keep his eyes open. His sleep patterns were all the place, only getting a few hours of asleep every night. He had been yelling himself hoarse at every crew member that stumbled into the room to visit Kirk, demanding they get some rest, yet not doing so himself. His reason was simple: Khan's blood was an experimental and Jim's health was no guarantee. The treatment was blood. Freaken blood. Leonard couldn't begin to explain what was happening within Jim's body. There wasn't any research or data on the side effects or the long-term effects of the damn blood. He didn't know then and he didn't know now what would happen when he stabbed Jim with Khan's blood, but it had regenerated properties and that was what he was banking on. If a dead tribble would chirp after a few 'treatments', Jim could open his eyes in a few.

If not, Leonard was damn sure he was going to lose his medical license. Well, he still could. You couldn't stab people with untested treatments without consent and not lose your license. Yet, he would do it again every single time no matter the consequences. Jim, even if he was a damn fool and a wild child—Yes, he was a damn child-, was his best friend. No, he was his family, a brother. They had their moments, him scorning Jim like his child, but McCoy could count on Jim to have his back no matter the situation. For trust, for that love, he would do anything, even losing his medical license.

Selfishly, Doctor Leonard McCoy couldn't live in a world without Captain James Kirk. Having experienced life pre-Kirk, he had no interest in living life like that again. The severe numbing loneliness that he felt previous was nothing he ever wanted to feel again. There was something special about having a friend, a friend who didn't judge. A friend who listened. A friend who expected nothing but your friendship. So maybe, he was selfish. Okay, he was being selfish, but if he could save his friend, he would. The universe would be better for it, and damnit, Jim didn't deserve to die because of Khan. Fucken Khan. He deserved happiness, true happiness.

McCoy exhaled harshly as he stared at his pale friend. The longer Jim stayed in a coma the less likely he would wake and the more likely he would waste way. Granted, if he did wake up, there was no telling if he would be the same person he was prior. Until Jim woke, he had no idea if his brain function would be normal. Leonard through he had placed him in cryo tube quick enough, but the brain started to die the second the heart stopped and there was no telling what the damage was. And if this didn't work and Jim died again, there was nowhere else he would rather be. He wanted to be here, refusing to allow Jim to die alone.

"How is our boy doing?" Pike croaked, startling Leonard. The good doctor leapt a few feet inches into the air at hoarse voice. The Admiral sounded better than before. "Better, I hope?" A silent plea hung in the air.

Letting out a harsh sigh, Leonard straightened both him and his medical unfirm out. "The same as before," He huffed.

Pike, groan, was impatient, a trait Jim carried despite not sharing blood. Nowadays, results for most treatments were immediate, and patients were on their feet in a few hours. "When is the last time, you gotten any rest?" he asked.

Leonard, a grouchy smile, walked over to Pike's biobed, a PADD in hand. "I'm the doctor here." He spoke sternly, pointing his thumb at his chest. "You don't get to doctor me. I have M.D. after my name," he replied as he checked Pike's vitals on the screen beside his bed. "Looks like you're escaping soon."

"Tomorrow. Be in wheelchair though." Pike grumped under his breath as the bed gradually shifted into a sitting position.

Another thing Pike and Kirk had in common: they hated being weak. Hated needing assistance. "Not sure what good that would do, because you'll be here, watching him." Leonard spoke, nodding his head toward the stilled Jim.

A cynical laugh escaped from Pike's chapped lips. "Better here than other places." He was referring to the clucker fuck that was currenting happening at Starfleet command. Headquarters were in a wild state of disarray. Besides the fact that Khan almost wiped out Starfleet, Admiral Marcus' betrayal sent shockwave throughout the command structure. For the most part, the treachery of the Admiral was kept under wraps in an attempt to save face. It didn't look good that a highly decorated Admiral tried to orchestrate a war with the Klingons using highly advance Section 31 tech created by a man pulled from the past, an embarrassment they were hoping to avoid. A disarrayed Pike had been spared due to his injuried status. Commander Scott and Commander Spock were unfortunate in this regard and had spent several days at headquarters, answering countless questions. Grilled on every detail.

"Can't disagree with you." Doctor McCoy had gone before command several times for his own hand in the mess. He had been 'yelled' a few times for his science experiment. Yelled at wasn't the quite work for it, but close enough.

"Now, when is the last time you slept?" Pike asked.

Leonard let out harsh sigh. "Last night."

Pike rolled his eyes. "You're just as bad as Jim." An affectionate smile graced his face as he glanced at Jim. "But I can understand. After almost—well, actually losing him, I don't want to let him out of my sights either."

There were a few moments that Leonard didn't want to relive it, and that was one of them. The memory of Jim lifeless would forever haunt his dreams. God, Jim was so still. Jim may be stilled now, but nothing compared to Jim's limp dead body, his arms just flopping. "He is a loveable goofy ball."

Before Pike could answer, the door to the room opened, revealing Doctor Carol Marcus. Not knowing Jim personally, Carol had no purpose in continuing to visit. She was an interesting surprise the first time she showed up and a good sounding board for McCoy's nonsense. After a few visits, it was quickly visible she was here for McCoy. They clicked in ways that Leonard hadn't known before, and Carol was good company and easy to talk to. She made him blush over the smallest things. It scared him was how fast and easy it was. After being burn by his bitch of an ex, love scared the crap out of him. This wasn't that yet, but he could see it forming.

"Admiral Pike," Carol greeted, a familiar smile on her face. "How are you today?"

"Better than the day before." Pike smiled, not judging her for the actions of her father. "Here to collect our good doctor?" She nodded, smile stretching across her face. "Good, he needs to eat. Something better than this crap." He waved his hands at the abandoned food on the table to the left of his bed.

While Leonard enjoyed his time with Carol, he detested leaving Jim's side. His eyes lingered on Jim's face, imagining the cheery smile he had seen on his best friend's face countless times. His eyes softened. He would never forgive himself if something happened. "Admiral-"

"Go," Pike ordered, his voice raspy. "I'll watch our favorite Captain."

Leonard's look dropped to Jim's chest, watching Jim's chest move ever so slowly. "Okay." He said, almost painfully.

Carol followed his eyes, her own expression softening. "There is this small café just a few meters from hospital." She spoke, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "If anything happens, we'll be back in no times."

With a deep exhale, Leonard nodded. Bones, the Best Friend of Captain James Kirk, smiled as he followed Carol out the door. He needed to follow his own advice.

*O*O*

Christopher Pike, feeling a little playful despite the situation, hooted when Doctor McCoy flushed at something Doctor Marcus said. Oh, young love. How exciting it was during the beginning. He could remember the beginning days of his relationship with Una before it went sour, mostly from his side. He would surmise it was the same for Spock and Jim in the beginning, seeing each other in ways no one else had. Pike let out a heavy sigh, muttering, "Until it wasn't." He had so many thoughts regarding those two, so many questions. He also wanted to knock them both outside their head.

Eyeing Jim, he wanted to get closer to sit at Jim's bedside, but his legs weren't very 'function'. Nothing more than paperweight at this point. In a state of denial, he continued to test this (sometimes hurting himself in the process), unable to wrap his mind around it. He may be an Admiral now, but there was nothing better than sitting in a Captain's chair and disable wasn't a word he wanted to be labeled with. He knew he was being asinine as there wasn't anything wrong with being disabled. People with disabilities could live a perfectly 'normal' life with disadvantages.

Yet, the word pissed him off. He didn't want to be disabled. He wanted to kick his feet over the edge and walk to Jim's side. While he didn't want to be chased while planet side, he wanted to be able to run through the wilds. He wanted to feel his toes in the sand. He wanted his legs, dammit. The idea of being in a wheelchair for any extended time pissed him off. He wanted to launch the chair into space. Doctor McCoy, with a heavy warning, had told him he might be able to get his legs back after a few rounds of nerve regeneration treatments. Chris jumped onto that, but after the first round, he wasn't sure he was willing to go another round. It wasn't a level 10 on the pain scale, but it wasn't painless.

"Jim," he called, softly, as he turned to his son. Yes, son. He had no idea when he found Jim Kirk in that bar that the kid would weave his way into his heart. He had no idea that he would love Jim as much as he did. He couldn't understand how it happened. How did he come to love the wild Jim Kirk? Their bond was considered indecent by some and weird by others, but it was life altering. There was nothing he would change… Well, besides how self-sacrificing Jim was. That kid would hand his life over in heartbeat for his crew, a bit trigger happy if you ask Chris.

Pike stared at Jim's stilled body, eyeing his near perfect pale skin. McCoy had healed most of the cuts and bruises on Jim's skin, leaving only a few (doing them in stages not to overtax Jim's body). "You can come out," he ordered, not taking his eyes off Jim's slow-moving chest. What a beautiful sight.

Just outside the door, a heavy shadow moved, and a figure stepped into the light. Not unexpectedly, Commander Spock, clad in his dress unform, stepped into the room, his arms tucked tightly behind his back. His eyes were glued to Jim's face, drinking him in. Spock did this every night, never staying for long. Pike wasn't sure what the Vulcan was thinking, couldn't begin to understand the hailstorm in his head. Whatever it was, Spock was shaken to his core that much Chris could tell. If he had to guess, Spock was trying to convince himself that Jim was okay. "How are you today, Admiral?"

"Going a bit crazy, but other than that, I'm fine." Chris replied. To most, the Vulcan was as stiff, but Chris could see the tense and fear a mile away. It was odd to see much influence Jim had over a Vulcan. "He's fine."

Spock, inflexible and rigid, stepped to the end of the bed, his right hand coming to rest on the railing. "Do not try to ease my concern with false platitudes. I am aware of the likelihood that Captain Kirk will wake. I do not need false hope."

Pike remembered their last conversion onboard the Enterprise: Spock's love confession. "It isn't false hope, Spock." He pushed up on his left elbow, which shook under his weight. He eyed Spock's whitening knuckles, his fist tightening around the bed railing. "There is nothing wrong with having hope."

"To have such a need is to apply that emotional reinsurance is needed, but Vulcans do not have such needs." Spock replied, coldly.

"Spock." Pike stated sternly. "It's me you are speaking to."

"That does not change my answer, Admiral."

Pike huffed. "If that were true, you wouldn't be here at the foot of Jim's foot." He paused, taking a moment to breath. "I know what Jim means to you."

There was a struggle of emotions on Spock's face. "I cannot and will not deny what Jim means to me. However, I do not need emotional reinsurances."

"Is that why you come here every night?" Chris eyed the indentation left by Spock's hand.

Spock didn't answer, stepping up the side of the bed. His hand traveled up the white blanket covering Jim as he moved. His fingers curled in the soft material, his eyes tracing Jim's face. "Jim is a gift that I did not believe I would see again. He is a sight that I cannot get enough of."

Chris smiled. "Love. It's a both a scary and wonderful thing." Spock didn't respond. His fingers meticulously avoid any contact with Jim's skin, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the Admiral. "Maybe, your mind meld could reach him."

"No." He protested strongly. "To do so would be a violation of Jim's privacy. I will not invade Jim's mind without his permission."

"You entered his mind once before when he was in a coma." He replied, the very memory made Chris uncomfortable. They had almost lost Jim, much like now. This kid was giving him all the gray hairs.

Spock's hand came to rest on top of Jim's clothed forearmed. "His life was in danger if he did not awaken then. Now, Jim simply needs to heal."

"Spock."

"I do not wish to speak anymore on this matter." He sternly spoke.

"Okay." For the rest of Spock's visit, no other words were spoken as Spock stood at Jim's bedside. Pike could only watch as all of Spock's love poured silently into Jim.

*O*O*

Admiral Pike was discharged a few days later, and almost immediately, the Admiral, in his wheelchair, was summoned to what remains of Star Fleet headquarters for two reasons. One, they had questions and two, they needed all the Admirals they could get. They needed to rebuild the command structure, and Admiral Pike, a famous Starfleet Officer, was needed on reputation alone. His name could rally the troops. After everything that happened in the last few years, faith in Star Fleet took a nose dive. The stories of Captain Kirk were legendary and people flock for that. This was one reason why Doctor McCoy had not lost his medical license yet: they would forgive him if Jim lived.

If.

If Jim lived.

McCoy repeatedly told himself not to think along those lines, but it was difficult. Jim often joked that he was a negative Nancy, always looking at the glass as half empty. Even with all the shit Jim had been through, he always had a smile on his face and looked for the positives. (That wasn't to say he didn't have his bad moments. The blond brat had too many negative thoughts to count, and yet, he had a strangely positive outlook.) When Chekov and Jim—not Captain Kirk—got together, they were loud and giggly. It was positively annoying, and Bones loved them for it. It was that reason why it felt like a kick to the gut when Chekov visited. Chekov's mood was hideously sad, a visible pout glued to his face. The Russian wasn't the only one to pout at the Captain's side. The entire Senior crew did when they visited. Bones had thought to limit the access, but a part of him believed the crew could reach him. So as long as they kept the visits calmed, he did not limit access to Jim. He was tempted when Uhura trailed along with Scotty. With an internal battle, he kept his mouth shut, leaving that to Jim. Sleeping beauty could open his pretty blue eyes and yell at Uhura.

Open your eyes.

Let them see you pretty blue eyes, Jim.

The more time that passed the more McCoy worried, but he didn't say it aloud. He wasn't sure if anyone could read the stress lines on the forehead, but if they did, they didn't voice it… Well, unless they were Saavik. That was the first thing out of the Vulcan's mind.

"Your worry does not bode well, Doctor."

Bones eyed her, her eyes just as judgmental as Spock. She was just much mittened by Jim as Spock was. It was nuts if you asked Bones. How could someone as crazy and wild as Jim attracted the most stiff, logical SOBs in the damn universe? Okay, if he wanted to think about, which he didn't, he could see how Jim could be candy to those boring sticks in the mud Vulcans. Those brilliant ocean blue didn't hurt. Leonard had found himself staring a few times. "When you know this fool as long as I have, you would be worried too."

Saavik tilted her head slightly, her eyes on Jim's brow. "Considering the Captain's tendencies," she started rolling her tongue on the word 'tendencies, "it would be logical to worry."

Leonard watched her as she crossed to the top of the bed, her armed folded tightly against her back. "What are your intentions with Jim?" he asked, not willing to risk Jim getting hurt again, especially not after Spock and Khan. He was stepping away out of bounds with this question, but for anyone who knew him, this wasn't atypical of him.

"My intentions?" She asked. "I only intend to service Captain Kirk honorably."

Why was he asking? There was no chance Jim would return her feelings, not when she was his subordinate. While Spock was also his subordinated, the power differential wasn't significant. Spock was his First Officer, while Saavik was a Lieutenant. Jim would never cross that line, wouldn't even think about crossing it. However, that would not be said about Saavik Vulcan or not. "Cut the shit. You know to what I'm referring to. You come here every day." Much like another Vulcan, but that was another story.

"I will not as you say 'cut the shit.' I am merely checking on my Captain. His health is vital to the Providence. Your health is also vital to the running of the ship as Captain would surely be dead without your medical expertise."

Leonard snorted. "Damn straight."

Saavik turned to the Doctor. "I intend to serve the Captain in any ways he needs as it is my duty as a Lieutenant onboard the Providence."

There was a greater chance of him Captaining the Providence than Saavik admitting anything. "Okay." He replied slowly. Besides, there was a plus side to this: Saavik driving Spock crazy. While Spock would never admit it, the Commander was jealous of Saavik.

"Has there been any change in the Captain's vitals?" She asked, turning her attention back to the monitor.

Leonard followed her eyes. "Not much," he replied with a heavy pained sigh. She had the ability and the knowledge to read the monitor herself. There had been a small change in Jim's brain scans, not enough to be significant but it wasn't a negative sign. Maybe, I'm too close. He exhaled slowly. They say you should never treat your family members and Jim was his family. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't bear to leave Jim's care to someone else.

Saavik glanced over her should at Leonard. "Captain Kirk would not want you to worry." She paused, an almost fond look passed over her face as she turned back to Jim. The same look Spock often spotted when looking at Jim. "The Captain will most likely be upset at your discomfort."

"That can be said about any of his crew." Leonard replied, his southern accent heavy. It was easier to be around Saavik than Spock. There was always this heavy guilt in his stomach when Spock was around. As much as he hated Spock for the pain he caused Jim, it was his own guilt that ate at him. The Vulcan was a heavy reminder that Leonard was just as responsible. Jim may have forgiven him, but he hadn't forgiven himself yet. He wasn't sure he could ever. And as Jim lay unconscious, Bones couldn't help but wonder if he couldn't be doing more. If he could have done something else? Was this for Jim's benefit or his?

*O*O*

Sweat gushing down his face, Captain James Kirk with a phaser in hand zipped through the overgrown woods while keeping an eye behind him. His heart pounded in his chest like a herd of elephants, his ribs ready to break under the pressure. His brain frizzled every time he heard a hint of a noise: a snapping of a twig, a crunch of fall leaves, the whistling wind through the tree, etc. His cold fingers were numbed as he tightened his grip on the phaser.

"Jim."

The wind ruthlessly smacked him across the face as a blood curling call assaulted his ears. An unexplainable dread flooded him, kicking him in his core. His lungs rebelled against him as he found himself struggling to breathe. The cold gust was slowly taking over his ability to think and breath.

"Oh, Jim."

A wayward branch from a tree smacked him across his face, putting a deep cut into his check. Blood gushed, mixing with his sweat.

"Where are you, Jim?"

The world spun on a dime, halting Jim instantly as his stomach traveled up his throat. Jim closed his eyes in an attempt to ease the nauseousness rolling through him like a tide wav. His phaser dropped from his hands as airy sensation filled him.

"Where is my Jimmy?" The voices bellowed.

Black shadow trees suddenly shot up from the ground, disheveling the earth within five feet of the roots, as they reached high into the night sky. Jim tripped, as the roots came alive around him and wrapped around his legs like an angry snake. Jim's heart shot through the roof of his mouth as the roots tightened. A ghostly chill filled the air and bit at his skin, leaving a raw sensation deep in his skin. A spidering sensation sizzled up his skin, smoldering. "Ah," he uttered, panicky smacking at his arms. Fear bloomed deep in his chest as he attempted to kick at the hard roots that formed a cocoon around his legs. "Let go!" he yelled as he continued to smack at his arms.

"Never."

All of a sudden, the ground cracked beneath him, transforming into quicksand. "No, No." Jim cried. In a blink of the ear, he was pulled into the sand, and no amount of kicking or paddling was going to save him as the darkness swarmed him, soaking him to the bone.

"Oh, Jimmy."

And just like that, the hot sand turned into water, rushing into every cavity. His eyes burned as his choked on the water. All sensation of logic abandoned him, and all he knew was terror as he paddled mindlessly in random directions. He twitched and turned in every way, losing all sense of direction. His lungs were on fire as the last bit of air escaped from his lips.

"I will never hurt you, James."

As Jim blacked out, he was back on solid ground, once more trapped in the thick roots. If it wasn't for his wet hair and clothes, he might've thought he dreamed it. "Stop." He begged.

"Just give in to me and I will protect you."

The voice was like nails on a chalk board, and Jim brought this hands to his ears, trying to block out the sound. He squeezed his eyes shut just as a wet howl roared. It echoed like a torpedo, irritating every part of his ears. "Stop it."

"You are not leaving me." The voice yelled, pulling Jim forward somehow. The dark shadows came alive, morphing into dark ghouls. Much like cartoons that he had watched as a child, white menacing smiles appeared on each.

"Leave me alone!" He bellowed, his throat unexpectedly dry.

The trees turned into high arching black waves, almost drowning out the moon. "Why would I do that, Jimmy? You are mine!" The voice boomed.

"No, I'm not!" Jim screamed. The roots disappeared from his legs, allowing him to drop to his knees with a hard thump. He buried his head in his arms.

"Why would you not be? We are the same, Jimmy."

A strong gust struck him like an open fist, knocking him to his side. "I am not!"

"A cunning captain who will stop at nothing to protect your crew. A monster like me."

Did that make Jim cold hearted? A monster. The fact that he would do anything to save his crew? "No. No."

A cold hand suddenly appeared on Jim's shoulder; its long fingers dug into his shivering shoulder, his clothes not protecting him from the sharp nails which cut into his flesh. "We're are exactly the same."

Jim yanked himself forward and twisted himself free from the heavy hand. Petrified, he scrambled in a quickened haste away from him, his hands sinking into the dense mud. "Get away!" He screamed into the cold air. Whatever it was behind him vanished and he was facing the empty night sky.

"Why would I do some such a thing? We are kin." Abruptly, the cold, malevolent hand returned and grabbed Jim's hands, nails digging in once more, and yanked him.

A high pitch scream that could wake the dead erupted from his lips as he went flying. The back of his head hit the muddy ground seconds before the hand dragged him through the sludge. Within seconds, Jim was caked in it, the mud in places mud should never be. Already shivering, it chilled him to the core, his insides pierced with ice. "No, we aren't!" His voice was hoarse, his throat raw and bloody. He kicked at the ghostly demon hands as his arms swung out, reaching for something to hold on to. Dirt buried itself beneath his nails, his nails tearing as he caught a few sticks and stones.

"My blood is running through your veins, Jim. My blood is what keeping you alive. It desires to be reunited with me."

Unable to find any traction, Jim squeezed his eyes tight as he willed the ghostly figure away. However, the ethereal voice yanked him back. "No."

The hand disappeared once more, and a figure formed in its place with its very own Chester cat smile. "Oh, Jimmy. You have nothing to worry about." A loud howl reverberated through the wilds.

With a deep breath, Jim opened his eyes, coming face to face with John Harrison or rather Khan. He was looking at Jim like a lion looking at his prey. "K-Kkan."

The dark shadows closed in on them, trapping Jim under the overwhelming Khan. "How many souls have you taken?" he asked as he brought Jim's bloody—wait, what?- hand to his lips, his longue licking up the warm liquid. "We are made for each other. Murderers in blood."

"No!" Jim screamed as Khan descended on him.

Jim, soaked to the bone, awoken with a cold startle in an darken room. The moon high in the night sky casted a light glow in the room, creating heavy haunting shadows. The holographic clock in the corner blinked 4:32am, and his body scans were dimmed on the wall beside the bed. The door to his room was opened and a small amount of light cascaded in. Sweat dripped down his face as he looked around the room. His shaky, clammy hand went to his chest and pulled the wireless leads off his chest, the machine signaling angrily at the lack of contact.

Slightly pained, Jim twisted his head, his ears ringing. On the third beep, he reached behind and flung his pillow. He wasn't sure what he expected as the monitor was a wall display.

"Captain Kirk," the automated computerized voice spoke, "I alerted to Doctor McCoy. Please remain in bed."

McCoy's name echoed in Jim's head, hitting some numbed brain cells. He blanked on the name for a few seconds, an headache forming. He barely recognized his own name, only remembering it from his haunting dream. "Who?"

"Doctor McCoy." The computerized voice answered. "Please remain in bed. I have alerted the hospital staff."

Bright painful memories flashed before his eyes, and several smiles danced before his face. Their faces became clearer with each passing second. They all loved him, but their names still escaped him. "No," he replied, as he kicked his feet over the edge.

"Captain Kirk, please remain in bed."

The room spun when Jim's feet made contact with the cold floor. Voices echoed down the hallway toward his room. Hearing the voice, Jim's heart soared, steading the room. "No," he repeated, his throat burning. His eyes scanning the room, he stood, his head in thick clouds. There was an empty bed, which looked out of place, in the corner of the room and a replicator on the far wall.

"Captain Kirk, please turn bed. Help will be here momentary."

He wiggled his toes against the cold floor as more fuzzy memories flooded him. He closed his eyes for a split second to settle his mind. A pointed eared man with pale green skin flashed before his eyes. It startled Jim and set off his flight and flight reflexes. Without waiting another second, Jim bolted out the door. The computerized voice called to Jim once more, asking him to return to bed. Jim, frantic, ignored it and continued to the empty stairwell. Soon the medical staff called after him, their footsteps echoing behind him. This only drove Jim harder and his dread rose. Jim didn't know where this fear came from, but it bit at him, turning his blood cold.

Maybe, it was that voice in his head, Khan's cruel voice in his dreams. Khan's callous tone wasn't the one devouring him from the inside like a toxin. There was this other voice, harsher and nastier than any that Jim had ever heard. It ripped him a part like a ravenous shark, eating every piece of him. He couldn't put a face to this ominous voice that threatened to tear him apart. Whatever this haunting voice was, he knew he couldn't stay. So, in a white patient's scrubs and no shoes, Jim dashed through the hospital like a mad man. The security guards at the front desk tried to stop him, but Jim wrestled though their arms as the nurses yelled behind them. Jim was gone as soon as he reached the front door.

The Author Note:

Geez, Jim, you don't have any shoes on. Where are you going?

I will note that will be something going on with Khan's blood. In my mind, it was weird that Jim didn't get something out of it. LOL Let me know what you guys think! And let me know how you felt about Spock's part. I was worried I couldn't do his POV justice after Jim's death.

And yes, I added Carol/Leonard, because it is my story and i can do what I want. LOL. I like these two. So what if David isn't born. It isn't like he lives a long life or anything.

Also, I watched the entirely of Star Trek Discovery. And while there are some canon discrepancy with it and the main timeline, I enjoy it. I have also determine I will watch any TV show with Captain Pike. He's the man. No one can change my mind. LOL. I love him.