I am little brain dead right now. Please don't mind my horrible writing.

And look two weeks!

Let me know what you think!

I do not own Star Trek and i do not make any money off this.

Chapter 15:

A Sandy Beach

Leonard McCoy, finally warmed and peaceful after countless days of anxious and restlessness, ignored the ringing of his communicator to bury himself deeper into Carol's back, hiding his face in her hair. For nearly two weeks, he had been nonstop on his feet with no moment of rest. No true rest. His mind was always spinning, always focused on Jim. Admiral Pike had been right. He needed time to recharge, time to himself. Being with Carol felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. Her smiling at him had relieved him in ways that he hadn't thought possible. He didn't regret one moment with her, and he wanted that moment to turn into many moments. He had no interested whatsoever in getting out of bed and having this moment ruined.

Carol's naked back was cool and welcoming to the touch, feeling heavenly against his chest. His chest filled with warmth, he never wanted to leave. This was perfect and nothing could drag him from it. He hadn't felt this good in a long time, and while he felt guilty with Jim in a coma, he wanted to stay in this bubble, forgetting the outside world and all the problems that came with it. However, this bubble was about to pop. Someone out there wanted his attention as his communicator whistled loudly for the second time. Leonard rolled slightly not completely letting go of Carol, his eyes searching for his blinking digital clock in the dark. The old clock, an old handy down from his grandparents, was a gift he took everywhere to remind him of home.

It blinked 4:35A, and McCoy sighed, as he rolled back to Carol. It is too damn early for this. Leonard squeezed his eyes tight, willing it to stop, as he rolled back to Carol. God, her hair smells divine. God, why am I so creepy? He hissed to himself. Or was he simply a simple man who enjoyed the little things in life? He didn't want anything fancy, just the company of a good woman.

When it beeped for a third time—this time seemingly longer than the last-, Carol stirred, slowly turning to face him. "Get it so we can go back to bed." She groaned, her eyes sleepy with a hint of irritation. She pulled the covers up tight around her, covering her face in the hopes of blocking out the sound.

Leonard grumbled angrily, as he rolled over to the night stand for his communicator. He missed the first time, his hand slapping against the edge of the desk. He winked. "Of course, it would be tonight." The first time he had had sex in a year, and this was the shit he got. Jim would laugh himself silly when he heard, giggle like a damn child. "McCoy Here," he answered, louder than he expected, when he wrapped his fingers around it.

"Doctor McCoy." The female voice on the other side was anxious, a visible hitch in her voice that set Leonard hair's on edge.

"What happened?" McCoy, fully alert now, hissed into the phone as he kicked his feet over the edge. His entire body tingled. He couldn't remember the nurse's name, but he recognized her voice from the hospital, and a call from the hospital at this hour wasn't a good sign. It also wasn't a good sign that this nurse was contacting him instead of Nurse Chapel who he left in charge.

Hearing the unease in his voice, Carol, with a firm hold of the blanket, bolted up into a sitting position. A concerned look danced across her face as she stared at him. She didn't say anything but was fully alert, any hint exhaustion gone. Her eyes were sharp, calculating.

The unnamed Nurse hesitated, her heart loud enough to hear over the communicator. "Where is Nurse Chapel?" Bones asked, annoyance bleeding through his voice. A ghostly figure of Jim appeared, leaning against the wall in front of him. There was a haunting smile on the blonde's face as he waved. "What happened?" he repeated, any patience gone.

"Captain Kirk…. He's… um." She tripped over her words like toddler walking for the first time.

Leonard's heart hit the roof and dread filled him. "What happened?" he asked as he leapt out of bed. The chill in the room slapped his naked ass and stole his breath for a second. Bones, his heartbeat off to the races, glanced around the room looking for his pants, his breath heavy. "Out with it." He snapped, his voice unnaturally chilly. "I don't have time nor the patience." He knew he was being unnecessarily mean, but a call like this could not not be an emergency. He would apologize later once he laid eyes on Jim.

Again, the nurse didn't speak, a light 'um' escaping her lips for yet another time, but before McCoy could yell at her to open her damn trap and speak like the trained nurse that she was, the phone was yanked from her hand and replaced with another voice just when he stumbled across his pants. "Captain Kirk woke." Came Nurse Chapel's voice.

"What?!" he yelped as he turned around to face Carol. A weird mixture of emotions filled him. There has to be more. At hearing the panic, Carol, also naked, kicked off the blanket and climbed out of bed. The expression on her face matched what McCoy was feeling: concerned, worried, frustrated. If Jim woke, why did the first nurse sound so worried? He pushed that aside. "How is he?" Why did Jim had to pick tonight? Not that he didn't love the fool, but shit. His concern died a bit, imaging Jim's baby blue eyes, as he stepped into his pants, forgoing his underwear. With one hand, he pulled up his pants, hopping to get them in place. "Christine," he called when she didn't answer.

Chapel took a deep breath. "He's gone, Leonard."

What? Leonard's brain broke for a second just as he zipped up his pants quickly. "Fuck," he cursed, as pain shot through his groined. "Fuck," he repeated loudly, having the misfortune of the zipper catching on his skin… the skin on his penis. His right eye was twitching as he slowly pulled it back down.

"Leonard?" Carol asked, pulling on a shirt. "Are you okay?"

"Leonard?" Chapel echoed over the phone.

He bit his lip, stopping the pained groan from breaking free of his mouth. While Christine and he were friends, this was one conversion he did not want to have. "What do you mean he is gone?" he asked through his teeth, his eyes still twitching, as he ignored the tingling sensation, the unfun kind, in his dick.

Chapel hesitated for a second before she explained Jim freaked out and ran seconds after he had awakened. It wasn't a particularly long story, nor big on the details. "We have search teams currently looking for him." she explained.

"Shit, Shit." He cursed, the tingle in his groin forgotten. Jim disappearing was bad, especially when they had no idea of what his mental state was. "I'm on my way."

"Yes, Doctor."

McCoy, not waiting for another word, slammed his communicator closed, his mind going to the worse possible place. Why the hell would Jim bolt if everything was okay? A part him blamed himself as he liked to mutter to himself while treating him, mostly talking out his own fears. Jim may have been in a coma, but it was possible he retained it all, which worried Bones. Did he hear him going on about Khan? "I'm sorry, Carol. I got to go." He spoke, softly.

While fixing her skirt, Carol replied, "No, we will go." Her accent was suddenly heavier.

"Carol."

"Captain Kirk is missing." She stated sternly. "I'm helping."

Doctor McCoy breathed through his nose. "Okay." He smiled tenderly at her as she slipped on her shoes. There was a determined look at her face that Leonard couldn't help but fall in love in. He was screwed. However, that was a thought for another day. He had possible crazy best friend to find.

*O*O*

With his arms folded tightly against his chest and his right eye twitching, Leonard was staring at the monitors. In the viewing screen in front of him was the video of Jim's 'great' escape. It was nearly impossible to tell Jim's mental state from the minute video, but there was a visible confusion on Jim's face when the computer announced it had alerted him that Jim had awoken. Now, that could be perfectly normal as no one was entirely lucid when they came to, especially when they had awakened from such a harrowing ordinal. Add that to James Kirk, this—whatever this was—made total sense. Jim never liked hospitals, refusing to stay unless he was bleeding and/or losing an organ.

Granted, that wouldn't have been an issue if the hospital staff and security did their job. The chief of Staff was going to get an ear full from him when they found Jim, the likes that hadn't been seen in a hundred years. The amount of time it took a nurse to respond to Jim was horrendous. What the hell was they doing? Sleeping? Making out? Christine Chapel, one of the best nurses he had ever seen, was already in his ear, lecturing him right back. Nurses had a hard job, seeing more patients in a day than any doctors. Doing more 'dirty' work. Keeping the hospital running. McCoy knew this and had a great appreciation for his nurses, but right now, that appreciation was gone, and he was ready to pop. Jim disappeared with a possible brain trauma.

Then there was the fact that he got Khan's blood flowing through his veins. Sure, the type of blood that ran through the body didn't change your character, didn't change you, but no doubt it would fuck with your mind, tearing you apart from the inside. This was why Leonard wanted to be there for Jim when he woke, wanted to be there when his friend inevitably freaked.

"Leonard," Carol called.

"What?

"Just watch."

"I'm watching," he grumbled.

"What is Captain Kirk's weight?"

Leonard turned to her, his eyes narrowing. "Why?"

Carol huffed. "Just tell me."

Jim's weight always fluctuated, which was annoyed the hell out of the Good Doctor. How hard was it to keep an average weight? Sure, Jim had a sweet tooth, eating more candies than healthy, but this fluctuation was more due to Jim's inability to eat, having gone days without food. Too focused on his work to eat. Making excuses why this specific task had to be done before taking a break to eat. He put the running of the ship over eating. McCoy knew where this unhealthy view of food came from, one of the few who did, and while he understood, it drove him crazy. "Roughly 79.3 KG. Why?"

"Does that look like the average strength of a man of that weight?" Carol pointed the screen.

Leonard rewatched with a new set of eyes as Jim sprinted to the stairwell. Jim made it several yards before the nurses could round the corner and make it a single foot. He took three steps at a time, leaping like a damn cheetah. He crossed entryway to the front door in no time, and when security guards tried to stop him, Jim pushed them aside like they were nothing, despite the fact that they were double his side. Leonard's eyes widened as Jim thew off the oversized guards with nothing more than extension of his arm. Jim elbowed one of the guys in the face, right in the eye. The man rolled in pain as Jim wiggled through the other man's arms with very little effort and was out the door.

"Shit." Leonard cursed, his eyes shooting to the guards a few feet from them. With a heavy bruise covering half his face, it was clear which one was nailed in the face by Jim's elbow. A few doctors had offered to mend his face, but both security officers refused any kind of medical attention, each disappointed and embarrassed by their failure. It didn't help that Leonard had harshly lectured them both as soon as he stepped foot into the building. Granted, after watching this video, he owed them an apology. No one could've stopped Jim. "Shit." He knew this was possible on some level but never truly expected anything happen. An oversight he would never do again. He was kicking himself. "Shit."

"We're find him," Carol said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Where the hell could he have gone?" McCoy uttered, mostly to himself as he shook off her hand. His frustration rolled off him.

"Doctor McCoy," Nurse Chapel called from the from the doorway.

"Any luck?" he asked, his eyes dancing to the window. It was too dark and too early to deal with this crap.

Chapel shook her head. "No, but Star Fleet security is still looking." She paused, her eyes focusing on the monitor for a second. "Unfortunately, they only provided us with a limited number of officers." An irritated huff rolled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "They don't want to create a stir; plus, Captain Kirk isn't a child. They will not name him as missing yet."

Leonard growled. "Bullshit. There's no telling what his mental state is. Who cares if he's not a child?" With a hand on his face, he turned away from the viewing screen. "There's no telling what he could do to himself." He let out a harsh sigh as he crossed to the window and leaned against the frame. "No telling what he could do to others." He spoke softly. Jim wasn't the type to hurt someone without reason, but Jim wasn't himself right now. Leonard closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Leaning forward, he ignored the conversion in the background, forcing past memories to the forefront of his mind in an attempt to calm himself.

Jim spinning in the captain chair with a large smile to greet him when Leonard stepped onto the bridge.

Jim wildly playing poker with the crew.

Jim messily eating a cheeseburger and licking his finger after as if it was the best thing ever

Jim surprising him with a visit from Joanne.

Jim, a smile as big as the moon, wrapping an arm around Leonard's shoulder and pulling him in tight.

A soft, gentle hand brought Leonard back to the present and he turned, his eyes following the hand. Carol gave him a weak smile. "We'll find him."

The warmth of the hand echoing inside of him, Leonard pushed of the window seal, straightening himself out. "Do any cameras pick him up?" he asked, his eyes zooming in on the security office behind Christine.

"We have him heading north," the Officer with the bruised face answered. "We're currently requesting access to cameras."

"What's taking so long?"

"Sir," the officer, who might have identified himself at one point, replied. "There are procedures to follow."

An insult whirling around on his tongue, he bit down on the inside of his mouth to stop it. Were procedures really holding them up? A mentally unstable—the thought burning Bones- Jim was running around, getting into God knows what. "What kind of Star Fleet procedures would stop us from finding a famous Star Fleet Captain?" Where the hell was Spock and his hacking skills at this time?

"At a time like this, they won't want to cause a stir." The officer spoke.

Leonard saw red, stream practically pouring from his ears. Really? Was this all about show? The Federation and Star Fleet was more concern about their image right now, and that infuriated him. He opened mouth, ready to spout something nasty, before he slammed it shut. He took three deep breaths and spoke, "I take it no one called Admiral Pike." He stated slowly. Pike would not stand for this, no pun intended.

Chapel shook her head. "No. You were our first call."

"Okay," Leonard breathed slowly, his eyes drifting to Carol. She had turned back to the video of Jim's escape, watching it like some kind of movie. "Let's get Admiral Pike on the lines. He will light some fire under their asses." At the same time, he didn't want to be the one to alert Pike. That was one bear he didn't want to poke. Pike, wheel chair be damned, got scary when someone touched Jim.

*O*O*

Hours had passed and the sun had begun to peak through the clouds, creating a rainbow of pink, red and orange to spread across the sky. For some, this morning light was the best part of the day and they would wake early just to watch. The view was only made better when the light simmered against the unforgiving ocean. With your feet buried in the sand, there was no better place to watch the sunrise. This was one reason why James Kirk found himself on a random beach with his feet in the sand. He had the urge to watch.

Jim looked like he had taken a hike through the woods and had gotten lost for days, his white medical patient scrubs no longer a crisp white. The bottom of his pants was completely black, much like his mud cladded feet. There were specs of dirt throughout his clothes and dried dirty water spots covering him. The sleeves of his shirt were ripped, causing him to roll them up; soiled finger prints lined the shirt. Whatever he looked like it didn't matter. His heads were in the clouds and there was no telling what could bring him back down.

His mind was…. Well, he didn't know how to describe it. He couldn't begin to explain what was going through his head. His memory was shotty at best, barely able to put together who he was. He knew he was James Kirk, a Captain of a Star Ship. Though, if he thought too long, he began to doubt that fact. Shaking those thoughts from his head, he knew he sacrificed himself for his crew, although he couldn't exactly tell you why. Love bloomed in his chest at the thought, but it was overwhelmed by his panic when he pushed too hard. His body was fighting against the memories and Jim wasn't sure if he wanted to fight that panic.

The surface recollections were nothing but primitive sensations, providing only a base level; and yet, this base level was enough to overwhelm him with devastating flashes of pain. He remembered the pure agony of his death. Remembered how it felt when his blood boiled beneath his peeling skin. He remembered when he took his last painful breath after his blood bleed into his deteriorating lungs. The memory of this pain threatened his entire being, overwhelming him to his core. His heart quacked. That was something he could never forget.

Who could forget dying?

And who could live once they made peace with this death? He was ready to die. He was at peace with it. Actual peace. It was surreal. While the idea of drying scared him, a part of him welcomed it. He had opened his arms, ready to embrace the darkness. There was a harmony in. No more fight. No more worry. He no longer had to live and risk his heart. Death was freeing and Jim had greeted it like an old friend. Yet, he was still live, and now, everything forgotten, abandoned emotion rushed back, smacking him like a truck.

While he struggled with remembering this Doctor McCoy, he did not forget those things. And honesty, that was the only thing he was concerned about: his death. His missing memories should be alarming, but he couldn't get over the fact that he died. His skin still tingled with the sensation of death, a muscle memory that he couldn't rid himself off. His lungs, though healthy, ached as if they were currently burning and every breath he took was reinforced with a cold reminder of that day.

Jim buried his feet deeper into the sand, leaning back on his hands while he sat. At this point, there was sand in his pants but he didn't cared. His eyes forward, he wasn't focusing on anything. The sounds of the ocean echoed in his ear, the only thing keeping him in the moment and not reliving it. His death, the cause of it still fuzzy, replayed in his head on a loop, a painful memory that he couldn't beat. How was he alive? And why? He was sure he could answer if he had a reason for his death. He knew he died protecting his crew. But why? For what?

When he compelled himself for an answer, the only thing that came to mind was Khan, one of the few people he could put a name to. Khan was the reason for his death; yet, it was his blood that ran through Jim's veins. His blood that kept Jim alive. Why? Why did they share blood? How did they not understand what that would do to him? Why couldn't they let him die? He was supposed to die. Instead, he was contaminated. He had been willing to die. He had accepted it, and yet, here he was, thanks to his would be murderer. A man who hands had been soaked in blood. How was he supposed to take that? What did that make him?

God, Jim felt sick as he sat up, brought his knees to his chest, and rested his head on them. Was he now the same cold-hearted beast that Khan was? Was he still James Kirk whoever that was? Maybe if he had a clue of who he was, this question wouldn't be as difficult…. Or maybe, it would be. Did anyone truly know themselves? There were countless songs on this topic: people pondering their own existence. "What am I?" he asked, his breath hot against his knees.

For the most part, the chill in the air went unnoticed by Jim, only know realizing it with his hot breath. Jim shivered but did not move. He couldn't move. His body was frozen here on this beach with questions that he could not answer. Those answers weighted him down, turning him into an unmovable statue. What good was he if he could not answer those questions? What good was being alive if his death kept playing in his head on a loop and all he wanted was that loop to end? What good was living if all he felt was pain?

"Are you okay over here?"

Jim groaned, suddenly feeling a present to his left. How did he miss that? "Does it look like it?" He replied, his throat sore from the lack of use.

*O*O*

Something was off. Spock knew the second he entered Saint Francis Memorial Hospital. The first thing he noticed was the noise, a loud hum echoing through the air like a chainsaw. The second thing he noticed was the level of activity at this time of day. Usually, early weekday mornings were uneventful, the silence deafening at times. Spock normally did not mind those times as the silence had meant no misfortune had occurred to cause a medical alert. Now, it was a haunting reminder when he visited Captain Kirk. The scene he walked in on this morning was opposite of that. Security Officers, lacking any kind of professionalism—a common trait among certain humans-, were jogging across the entry way, voices filled with panic. Spock, this sudden change spiking interest, almost stopped for a second to ask what had caused this uptake, but his thoughts, his Katra, were focused on Jim and his need of reassurance of Jim's being.

As absurd as it was, he frequently required a reminder that Jim was alive and breathing. So, when he was free and not at Star Fleet headquarters testifying, he visited Jim, staring as if Jim would disappear at any second before his eyes. He needed to touch Jim to reassure himself this was real and not a hologram. It was illogical to need this comfort, a sour taste strained in his mouth for this act, when faced with the facts. It was nonsensical to throw away all rational thought at one man's death, but a light had gone out inside of Spock when Jim died, something his logical brain could not compute. Star Fleet Officers died every day, a horrible but true fact, and yet, no amount of logic could handle Jim's death, no amount of reason could make sense of it.

James T Kirk was far from perfect, too cocky at times. Too head strong. Too stubborn. In the beginning, Spock misjudged him on these traits and judged him harshly. He was a failed Star Fleet Officer, and he could not see Jim as anything else. The young Captain had to fight just for Spock to see him and not an out of control Cadet. Jim was naïve, but behind that cocky, arrogant smile stood a good man, who genuinely cared for his crew. He, even faced with his death, would fight until to the end of the line for them. If Spock's counterpart was anything to go off of, the universe needed Jim.

Spock needed him, his Katra calling for him. He had thought he was lost before having to live without Jim by his side but having Jim die in front of him was soul destroying. A human metaphor he did not understand until then. The Vulcan still could not recall much from that time, his brain in a state of rebellion. Only anger existed, an undying anger that he could not rang in.

With a deep breath- always preparing himself the worst-, Spock paused at the door of Jim's room, his heart halting for a moment as the sight before him triggered Jim's excruciatingly death to replayed in his mind. His Vulcan brain fried as he noticed Jim's bed was empty, his bio readings missing from the monitors. The others in the room went unnoticed to Spock as he stared at the Kirk-less bed. His eyes laser focus on the empty bed.

No.

No.

No.

Why was Jim out of bed? Was it for a treatment? If so, where was his stats on the monitors? Did something happen? Where was Doctor McCoy? Was the treatment not enough? Did Jim….. No, No. Spock could not suffer through that again. On the verge of a panic, his mind whispered Vulcan's teachings to him in a failed attempt to calm him. It was too early to panic. Jim's disappearance did not mean something happened.

"Commander Spock."

He could not—

"Spock."

The sharp voice snapped Spock back to reality, the entire room slowly took shape. There were several Star Fleet Officers in the room. Spock recognized Admiral Pike and Doctor Marcus, while the others were nameless figures to him. "Admiral." He greeted, monotone as normal. His eyes scanned the room. "Where is Captain Kirk?"

Pike wheeled over to Spock, still getting used to it. "We don't know." He breathed, his nose flared.

"I do not understand. How can you not know where Captain Kirk is?" Spock asked, his voice cold.

Doctor Marcus—why was she here? Her father was the cause of this- took a step forward, speaking, "It appears that Captain Kirk had awaken during the night and bolted. We are currently looking for him. We caught him on a few security cameras heading North."

A question formed in Spock's mind, battling to escape from his lips, as he was flooded with relief. "How did the Captain manage to escape from hospital in his current state?" he asked instead. While Doctor McCoy was excellent doctor, there was a few things that only time could heal. One of the Security officers, studying the security feed, shot a look over his shoulder, his bruised face visible.

A weak smile stretched across Pike's face as undoubtedly a fond memory played in his head. "Even halfway out of his mind, Jim had some tricks up his sleeves." Pike, panic seething just beneath the skin, explained the nights events and showed him the security footage. He briefly read in the Commander on what they knew. "Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel, along with some security officers, are looking for him."

"A few, Sir?"

"We will find him, Spock." Pike replied, quickly.

Spock recognized the attempt to avoid the question, and though Spock desired to call Pike out on it, his mind was on Jim. "Why was I not told sooner?" he asked. The idea of Jim lost in the city, mental status unknown, didn't sit well with Spock.

Pike stared at him. "Sorry, Spock. I just found out myself. Lapses in judgment all around."

The Vulcan found that answer to be unsatisfactory, but it was illogical and non-sensible to debate this with Admiral Pike at the moment. He would rather spend his time searching for Jim instead of arguing with Pike about not being informed. "Was Commander Scott informed?"

"No, but he should be informed as Jim's First Officer." Pike replied.

No, there was not a harsh bitterness in Spock at the verbal reminder of Scott's new position. Spock's eyes flocked to Carol. "And Doctor Marcus was informed?" This has nothing to do with being pitied either. It was a valid question. Pike should have informed him.

"I wasn't informed," she retorted, swiftly. "Just heard it second hand." A heavy blush sat on her face.

Spock narrowed his eyes at Carol, focused on the intense discoloration that took up half her face. "I do not understand."

Pike shoot Carol an amused look, one that Spock had seen on Jim's face many times. If possible, Carol's face got redder. "It is unimportant, Spock." He paused, suppressing the urge to laugh. "I'm sorry that you were not informed." Pike gave him a week smile, his concern still heavy on his face.

Spock's fist tightened behind his back. Once more, the explanation wasn't satisfactory, but it was clear he would not be getting a valid answer. "If you may, can you send what you currently have to my P.A.D.D. I will join in the search for Captain Kirk." he spoke, coldly.

"Spock."

"Send it to me." Spock ordered, even if he had no authority to do so, and turned to the door. "I will locate Captain Kirk." He would find Jim. He could always find Jim. This would not be any different.

"Spock." Pike's calls fell on empty ears.

*O*O*

Jim groaned loudly when the shadow didn't move. "I'm good. You can leave." He added dryly after a few moments of pained stillness, his words scratching his throat.

"Really?" Her left eye brow went up. "I do not think someone in a dirty hospital grown on the beach can say they are okay."

Puffing his chest, Jim shot her unimpressed glance over his shoulder to the owner of the voice. He noticed the Star Fleet Uniform first, which earned a harsh eye roll from him. The second was her rank. Like him, she was a Captain, a Captain who she had just stepped off her ship. Her dark hair, an array of tightly braided braids, was tucked to the side, almost covering her rank on one side. "I am fine," he repeated. Did a random Captain come across him?

The female Captain, her dark skin warm under the rising sun, took a step forward. "Fine is not an acceptable term." She smiled warmly. She was a bit older than Jim, but not by much. If Jim had to guess, he would say 6/7 years older.

Jim gave her a hard look, as that phase struck a core deep within him. Her face, like everyone else, was unknown to him, and he found himself staring, demanded his brain to bring forth any memory on her. Was this someone he was supposed to know? That phase she used meant something, so why wasn't her face triggering him? Maybe, he should swim off into sea and not come back.

"Is there someone I can call for you?"

That was a loaded question. He would have to know people to call. "No." The strength of that 'no' even had him rolling.

The Captain hummed as she took a seat never to Jim, following his eyes to the sea. "How did you get Ice cream at his hour in that?" She asked, noddled toward the empty bowl next to Jim.

Jim's eyes dropped to the empty container for a second. One of the business owners on the beach saw him, and in their pity, provided him Ice Cream. At this hour, the idea of Ice Cream might not have been the best idea, but that was all the owners had. "No one can say no to blue eyes," he stated drily. He remembered the owner staring into his eyes, commenting on how blue they were. It was off putting and made him slightly uncomfortable.

She nodded, shifting in the sand. "I can see that."

Silence fell once more, but neither broke it for a while, just allowing the sun to rise and blast them with sun. They listened to the birds sing, who came alive with the sun. The sounds of a forming crowd from the street and shops behind them slowly begun to roll to the beach. For a few long minutes, he forgot his troubles while he sat next to the female Captain, but the pain came rushing back as a loud wave hit the rocks several meters from them. For not having his memories, he had a heavy weight on his shoulders.

Jim, both frustrated and confused, wasn't sure what to say. With his words depending, he had no idea if he was supposed to know her, and it was clear she was waiting for him to speak. Why wasn't his smile good enough? He glanced at her one more time, taking a long look at her uniform. He had already noted she was a Captain, but one could tell a lot about a person by how they kept their uniform. Was the uniform neat and clean? Was it in perfect condition, following every regulation? Her sleeves were frayed at the end as if she spent her shift in the chair picking at them; yet, the rest of the uniform was in top shape, not a stray strand out of place.

"So…" He exhaled. "What brings you out here?" Jim finally asked.

"I was supposed to be meeting my brother, but he had not been returning my comms." A frustrated sigh escaped from her lips.

Jim's glance returned to the ocean. "Brothers. What good are they?" he replied, smiling weakly. Sam and his relationship was complicated to say the least. It wasn't anywhere where Jim wanted it to be, but it was better than before, talking more than they did previously. Wait….. Who was Sam? Eyes large, did he remember something?

"Not much else."

The uncomfortable silent befallen them again, and as minutes passed by, Jim couldn't help by wonder why this Captain was here. Did he know this woman? Granted, this didn't sound like a conversion between friends. However, in his state, did he even know what a conversion between friends sounded like? "You don't have to stay." he said, slowly as he stretched out his feet, burying them in the sand again.

The Captain didn't respond right away, stating intently at the light reflecting off the ocean. She opened her mouth several times before closing them again. Settling on her words, she spoke, "We Captains have to stick together."

Jim's head whipped around. A few things—fears- flew across his mind, but one question echoed loudly in his head. Jim sucked in his breath, halting the freak out in its tracks. A forced shut down of the emotions on his face. "Do we know each other?" he asked, knowing he might be outing himself. Did it matter? Who cared if someone knew he was having difficulties with his memory? Well, unless they locked him up in some mental institution. He might belong there, considering the murderous blood he had running through his blood.

"By reputation only," She replied with a cocky grin. "I don't know if I should feel insulted. I may not have saved Earth like Captain James T. Kirk, but geez." Her cocky grin turned cheesy.

Honestly, Jim might've heard of her. He had no idea what he didn't know, and if he knew her name, it might have ranged a bell. Doctor McCoy's name did, ringing more than just a bell. The pause in his heart was more than enough to make a guess regarding his relationship with McCoy, but his brain hurt the longer he spent trying to remember the Doctor, almost screaming at him. "Forgive me," he replied, trying and failing to put on a smile. "I haven't been in the right mindset lately." There was sadness in his voice that he could not hide.

She nodded. "After everything you had done for your crew, it is not surprising. I can't expect anyone to be in the right mindset after that. Most would be dead on their feet for weeks."

"How much have you heard?" He heard the question before he realized he opened his mouth.

The Captain hummed, peeping at him from the corner of her eyes. Oh, what he must've looked like to her: a pretty homeless man who may be crazy. "You were willing to sacrificed yourself for your core." She paused. "The story of your survival is spreading like wildfire. You should hear all the rumors, questioning how you did it."

Me too.

He was questioning a lot of things.

Am I still me?

His heart clenched, thinking about it. The muscles memory of his death replayed in his head. His entire body shook at the excruciating reminder of his death; he did die. That memory was clear enough: he shouldn't be here. God, why couldn't he stop thinking about it? It was over. He was alive. "Is this why you came to talk to me? A morbid curiosity?" His tone was sharp.

"No." She leaned back on her hands, a conflicted look passed over the Captain's eyes. "Honestly?" She paused, waiting a second before adding, "there is a man in a dirty hospital gown on the beach, looking rather lost. I couldn't leave him no matter who it was. It is the Starfleet way."

Jim stared at her, attempting to read her emotionless face. This Captain had emotions, but there was a control there that he hadn't seen before. While that made it difficult to read her, he doubted she was lying. "So, there is no getting rid of you?" he asked, both hopefully and despairingly.

"No."

For the third time, they sat in silence as he kept stealing glances at the Mystery Captain, expecting her to get fed up at one point and leave but she did not. Jim wasn't sure what she expected out of him. Did she want him to spill his guts? Not that he knew what those guts were. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of her breathing and imaging her chest move ever to slowly. It distracted slightly from the phantom pain. Speaking to someone helped.

Suddenly, the urge to speak surged through him, the need to divert him from his death overwhelming. Or maybe, he simply needed to talk it out. It wasn't making sense. Nothing was making sense. Out of all the things he forgot, why couldn't his death have been one of them? He breathed through his noses, trying to rid himself of these toxic thoughts. "I should be dead," he spoke suddenly. The Captain turned to look at him, her eyes piecing him. His heart skipped in his chest. "I made peace with it…. Me dying." His words were hot on his tongue. "I was ready to die. I shouldn't be here."

As if he rid himself of unneeded weight, Jim felt lighter somewhat. Memories in a blender, he felt ashamed to even voice it, the guilty overwhelming. "The pain just keeps replaying in my head on a loop that I can't stop." There was a part of him, screaming that he shouldn't trust this to a stranger, but he couldn't help it. "And I just want it to stop." He paused, the words unbearably stuck in his throat. "I… I just wish I stayed d-dead."

Those words burned his tongue as this alien feeling wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed. Those words felt like a betrayal of his entire being while feeling true at the same time. He was both disgusted and relieved. "I don't know how to handle this." He reached down to the sand, closing his fist around it. The sand, like his memories from his mind, slowly poured from his hand as he brought it up to eye level. "I don't know how to live with this." He opened his hand and allowed the wind to take the sand. He watched the wind drift in the wind. "I don't know what it means to be alive again."

Jim let the Captain ponder those words as he dropped his hand. Why was he so defected? Was this all because of Khan's blood? A man he could barely recall beside his evil Chester Cat grin and the rage that flooded him every time he thought of him. The feeling haunted him. A ghostly sensation, which was the only thing he felt lately. If he wanted a genuine answer on his memory lost, he supposed he go back to the Hospital and allow that McCoy to exam him, but that left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Is that why you ran?" She asked, curiously.

Something inside of him roared at those words, demanding she take them back. "I didn't run." He hissed, no idea where this fight was coming from.

The Captain shot him a look that screamed, 'Don't use that tone with me boy.' "Oh, really?" She gave Jim another once over. "Where are your shoes?" Her eyes paused on his blackened feet.

Jim groaned, burying his feet deeper into the sand. Surprisingly, his feet didn't hurt, just darkened by the mud, the dirt and whatever else was on San Francisco's street. The thought gave him pause as the city streets weren't anything near clean. The amount of people who used the city's streets as a toilet was astounding and a bit scary. "Gave them to a clown." He replied, unsure why he was lying. He just bared his soul to this stranger.

She nodded, not contesting the lie. "There isn't anything wrong with you. It is perfectly normal to feel like this." She hummed, replaying a memory in her had. "You almost died. Death makes you would question everything. I know I did a few times."

Jim's nails dug into his palms, wondering if he should correct her. He didn't almost die. He died. His skin still burned. "It would be easier if I did." He mustered.

"I get it," she replied, softly. "Not many people know when they will meet their end, but for those lucky—or unlucky—people, their entire life passes before their eyes. In reality, only a minute have passed, but you live an entire life in that span. While no one wants to die, that moment allows a person to came to terms with it. To come to term with their life. To forgave themself for any mistakes they might not have previously." She paused, giving him a hard look. "To allow yourself to feel and think knowing you are going to die. For once you are free from consequences. It's freeing and just when you settle these thoughts, the presence yanks you back." She gave him a weak smile. "And everything hits you like a ton of bricks. You now have to face these consequences."

He just stared at her. Had she felt the same? "Personal experience?"

"As Captains, we have faced many life and death situations."

If he could remember those experiences, it may have been helpful. "But those times, we have our egos to protect us. No one is admitting defeat in those times."

"Very true." She glanced back at the ocean. "There were a few times I welcomed death and survived in the end." There was clearly more to the story but did not explain. "It messed me up at first, but being with my crew, my family rebuilt those destroyed bridges. I feel whole, but it does take time."

All of that felt so foreign to Jim. "Do…Do you." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Do still feel it?" His voice was raw, displaying a pain that he had hide previously.

"It?"

"Death." The one word broke him.

The Captain looked taken back by this visceral emotion, but it took her only a second to recover. "At first," she admitted. "But it does get better with time. You just have to give it time."

The word time echoed in Jim's head. "What if it doesn't get better?" That scared him the most. What if he was stuck like this? What if he was never going to be that James Kirk again? Just a monster living in his skin.

"It may feel that way now, but it won't always be that way."

Jim huffed as he pushed himself up to his feet and stood. He shivered under the chilling wind, his legs trembling somewhat. He didn't feel weak. He didn't feel much of anything physically. He may have run here from the hospital, cutting through a city like a mad man, but he didn't feel it. He wasn't sure how far he ran but he didn't feel the strain in the muscles. It was odd. Not responding to the Captain, he stepped to the water. Pausing to allow his eyes to adjust to the light, the hot sun baked his face, white spots sparkled across his vision. The rumble of the sea drowned out the roar of the people behind him. A cold chill rolled from the ocean up the beach, and the frosty sea felt like a hard slap when he stepped into the salty water.

After recovering from the sharpness of the cold, he continued forward until the water was at his knees. He wiggled his toes in the wet sand in some odd attempt to feel something. It was peculiar. The feeling of nothingness. He didn't know how to describe it. Things were different. Jim could feel the Captain's eyes on him as she hovered at the water line. His glance only lasted on her for a moment before his eyes dropped to his feet. Softly kicking, he splashed, which sent water further up his pantleg. A random droplet flew smacking him in the face. The smell was the first thing to hit him and he froze.

"Captain."

He turned to her, peeking over her shoulder at the growing people on the cliff. "I'm fine." His face guarded.

She stood there awkwardly, startled by the sudden armor. "Is there someone I can call for you?"

You can't say here forever. There was someone she could call. There was that Doctor, and yet, there was this strong reluctance in him. Jim wasn't sure if he was scared of this McCoy or scared of himself. Scared the Doctor will find something wrong with him.

"Captain Kirk," she spoke as if she could read his thoughts. "You have nothing to be scared of."

Jim took a deep breath. He knew she was right, but shit, he wasn't the same man he was before. There was this alien blood in him changing him, morphing him into something. "Doctor McCoy. You can contact him." He finally answered after a long pause. Nodding, she pulled out her communicator. "I never got a name." he spoke before she could flip it open.

"Captain Michael Burnham." She replied.

Nope, the name did nothing for him, which confirmed Doctor McCoy must mean something to him. Jim feebly nodded as he turned his attention back to the sea, ignoring her as she made the call. There was a large whale in the distance that he focused on. Its tail smacked the surface of the water harshly, sending several feet into the air. For some reason, Jim put himself in that Whale's mind, pondering the life it was living: his life if he was a whale. It must be freeing to roam in the ocean sea without any major fear.

If Captain Burnham called more than one person, Jim wouldn't have noticed.

The Author Note:

I am sorry that I made you think of McCoy's dick for a second. LOL. Also, I love Carol/Leonard.

Jim's sections annoyed me for a bit as I felt like I kept repeating the same lines. However, Jim's mind is big hot mess right now, and he doesn't have the ability think clearly. Poor Jim. On that note, I will say that Jim's memories issues won't go on forever, but i did not want it to be fixed in one chapter.

Lastly, I wasn't planning on adding Michael Burnham to my story, but after watching STD, I decided Spock needed his sister- even if it doesn't make sense for him to have a sister (Poor Star Trek Canon). So in my story, Discovery did not go into the future. Nero's attacks changed that as everyone was Romulan crazy instead of Klingon Crazy and Michael is now a Captain.