I am sorry this took so long. I blame the internet an the fact that people are writing Fanfiction and the fact that I can watch all the Star Treks online.

But i hope you enjoy this chapter. I enjoyed it, though the last section gave me some trouble.

Just let me know what you think.

Chapter 16:

Loving the Monster

When Leonard got the call, his brain froze, words lost been his mind and lips. It took several long seconds and his name being repeated several times for his brain to work. Some random Captain—her name spoken loudly and clearly when he answered, though he didn't care to recall—found Jim on some beach and talked him into giving her Leonard's name, which she used to obtain his contact info. That surprised and worried him: Jim coming in on his own power. Jim was the worst patient, thinking he was invincible… but wasn't he now? The recording from before replayed in his head. Shit, this was going to go to Jim's head and make his normally recklessness worse, which would embolden him more. Oh god. That wasn't a thought Leonard wanted to entertain, but it was another thought for another time.

The hovercar came to a quick, jerky stop in a busy parking lot, Bones focused on the shoreline visible in the distance. A rumbling roar of the diverse crowd, the giggling kids' laughter mixed in, from the nearby shops drifted over. Deep in conversion, no frowns could be spotted, smiles heavily planted on each face. Bags in hand, food on plates, they were oblivious to their surroundings, which included three stern looking Starfleet Officers- One messy looking doctor and two uniformed Security Officers- stepping out of an official Starfleet hovercar.

Besides a handful of odd people, the sandy beach, itself, was mostly empty at this early hour. A few in sweats and heavy hoodies trotted across the hot sand, sweat dripping down their flushed faces. Some were sitting at the tables where the sand met concrete, eating and slipping coffees. Lastly, there were a few oddball swimmers; however, Bones was only focused on the two individuals sitting at the waterline. He, a controlled expression, glanced back at the officers with him, a warning in his eyes. "Keep back." He ordered as he turned back to the two sitting on the beach.

"Yes, Sir." They echoed.

Bones didn't appreciate the idea of traveling around with two Security Officers especially when the subject of their officer recovery was his best friend. It made his stomach queasy: Jim wanted by Starfleet. No, that wasn't exactly truly as they weren't hunting for him down for any wrongdoings, though they did desperately want him back. This wasn't any normal circumstance; it was simply that no one knew which Jim they were dealing with or what the consequences of Khan's blood coursing through Jim's veins. And as much as Leonard didn't want to compare Jim to Khan, they had no idea what his mental state was or if certain attributes would be affected. With no fault on Jim, a slight imbalance in the chemicals of the brain could cause major chances to personality and impulse control. "Good."

The unsteady, unleveled sand consistently shifted under Leonard's weight, causing him to overcompensate with each step as his feet buried themselves in the sand by his body mass. "Stupid sand," he grumbled vociferously, as it slowly worked its way into his shoes. He kept his attention forward, refusing to permit the man in the white—if you could call it white at this point- out of his sight. Jim's filthy patient scrubs stood out on his pale skin. At his loud grate, the figure next to Jim shifted and pushed itself to her feet. Though Leonard wasn't close enough to make out any features, the figure seemed to be the sterned Captain who commed him. Turning, her eyes arrowed, her expression calculating. Bones, who would normally be in unform while on duty, looked like a slob next to the security officer, being in the street clothes that he rolled out of bed in. His hair was a complete mess on his head, sticking up in every direction, and murky circles heavy circles darkened the skin under his eyes.

The Captain glanced, her eyes coldly assessing, at Jim before she stepped toward Bones. Her sharp features cleared when the distance closed, and her rank was confirmed by his uniform when the distance narrowed. She was indeed the Captain he spoke to: Captain Burnham if he beat himself over a head a few times. Her expression morphed like she was a different person, when her glance shifted from Jim to him. Any softness in her body vanished, as she placed herself between him and Jim in an extremely protective fashion, which confused Leonard. As far as he knew- mostly based on the fact that he didn't know this chick and he would know her if Jim knew her-, those two didn't know each other.

"Doctor McCoy, I presumed," She spoke when he came close enough. She didn't offer a hand.

"Yes," he grumbled, surly. His tones weren't exactly friendly, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Once he was in a better mood when Jim was back at the hospital, he would apologize. "Thanks for the call, but if you excuse me." He attempted to side step Burnham, but she matched his step, not allowing him to pass. She nailed him with a chilling look that McCoy did not care for. "What are you doing?"

Her eyes did a once over his entire body, taking him a part inch by inch before glancing over his shoulder to the Security Officers, who stood three feet behind him. She pinned the officers with the same cold look. "I wasn't aware that Captain Kirk needed an armed escort." Her voice sharped.

Leonard peeked over her shoulder to Jim, whose hadn't moved. The boy—Yes, Leonard considered him a boy—was still as still could be, his eyes painfully forward as if he stared at the ocean. "It isn't like that." He snapped.

"Oh, is it not?" Like a certain Vulcan he knew, she lifted an eyebrow.

Bones didn't like her condescending tone, but he supposed it did look odd if he were to look at it from her point of view. Jim was a decorated Captain, whose name was known across the universe, and yet, he were here with two armed officers. "Listen here," he hissed, his southern accent strong. "Jim is safe in my care. He's my patient and my Captain. I know how to handle him. I don't need a third part to interject themselves."

A heavy scowl crossed her face, her left eye twitching. She straightened herself, her stiff form showing her rank. Even if her badge wasn't proudly displayed on her chest, her essence was that of a Captain, who knew her worth. A look that Admiral Pike and Captain Kirk also held. "Maybe, that's your issue," she shot back, her tones icky. She wasn't a fan of him. "Captain Kirk does not need that brand of help."

"And you would know, how?" Leonard couldn't keep his disgust from his tone.

"I command a Starship." She replied matter of factly as if that answered every one of McCoy's questions. "I cannot captain a ship successfully if I cannot read my crew." She added after seeing the questioning look on his face. "Captain Kirk needs to be handled with care." She glanced back at said man, the sharpness in her eyes gone for a second. A switch had been hit. "I ask for a gentle touch when dealing with him."

Leonard's nostrils flared. "What the hell do you think I am going to do to him?"

Her cold, calculated eyes snapped back to the Security Officers behind Leonard. "And yet you have two armed guards."

A harsh hissed escaped Leonard chalky lips as he chewed his words—and lips- carefully. He lowered his voice, whispering, "He has been through quite an ordinal and we aren't-" he stopped himself, uncomfortably searching for the corrected word. An uneasy silence hung in the air like a dangling knife as he struggled to keep the words 'unsure of his mental capabilities and/or faculties' off his tongue. Psychopath homicidal maniac. Those words left a sour taste in his mouth and soul, but it was the truth. They had no idea of 'who' they were dealing with.

"Aren't sure of what?" Burnham prompted, following his lead, and speaking softly but firmly. Her arms folded tightly across her chest, a heavy scowl on her face.

Jim's crackling hoarse voice cut through the air. "H-he thinks I'm…mentally unstable."

"What?" the word exploded from Leonard's throat before he realized it, shock marred his face. How could Jim hear them from there? There were a good ten feet between them, and he had whispered the last parts.

"Doctor McCoy," Burnham chastised harshly, earning a dirty look from the Good Doctor.

"Don't." Leonard exhaled and mouthed softy. "I don't need your help or judgement."

Kirk's body was unnaturally still. "I can still hear you."

"Jim." Leonard uttered.

"And I get it." There was this innate sadness in Jim's voice that shook Leonard to the very core. "I wouldn't trust myself either." Jim deeply sighed. "What's going to happen to me?"

Ignoring the puzzled look on Captain Burnham's face, Leonard's heart cracked at Jim's depressing tones. Was this why Jim ran? He was scared of them? Couldn't trust them not to hurt him? Bones didn't like the implications of those thoughts. His jaw locked, he shot Burnham a frosty look, and with his elbow, he pushed passed her, rushing to Jim's side.

Her hand shot out to stop him but frozen in midair, an angry conflicted look sketched her face. "Easy." Her words were a harsh warning.

"I got it." Leonard, sidestepping the Captain's outreached hand, matched her sour expression before kneeing in front of the stilled Jim, who looked like a small child as he folded in into himself. Bones' heart breaking, everyone faded from focus as his attention was solely on his best friend. The boy—always a boy- was a cold statue with the only Kirk like feature being his eyes. Jim's other striking characters were dulled under the murk that painted his normally tan skin, but even in the filth, his vivid blue eye stood out like a beacon. Leonard had no sexual interest in Jim whatsoever—the idea making him ill-, but he could admit that Jim's eyes were simply breathtaking. Art really. Shaking those thoughts out his head, he focused on Jim, who stared at him intensely. Leonard almost stumbled under the harsh stare, taking a second to recalibrate himself.

Taking out his tricorder, he scanned Jim, his eyes clocking the uneasiness in Jim. Something was wrong, and forgive the pun, Bones could feel it in his bones. A childish chuckle echoed in his mind before he pushed it away. His focus zeroed on Jim. Warning lights were flashing in his face; this wasn't Jim, just a shadow of his friend, which created an fidgety feeling in his chest. Jim was never quiet—of any kind-, always talking up a storm in some odd attempt to not be forgotten—as if he could—and he was most definitely not silent during medical examinations. Bones didn't even have to touch Jim with a hypo for him to weep like a baby, spouting off vociferously that he was fine. It was funny and annoying.

And now, loud explosions were going off in Leonard's head. His heart pounded in his chest as he silently started to brainstorm. Was this mental? A sort of depression? This would not be unexpected after everything the boy went through. Leonard assumed being injected with the blood of thirsty maniac who dreamt of word domination and your ex could do that you and bring everything you ever thought about yourself into question. Bones was light headed, his hand shook. He hated himself for it, nightmares blooming about the monster he had created. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

Jim was not a monster.

Jim would never be a monster.

Jim was a thoughtful Captain who put his crew first.

It was impossible for someone as kind hearted as Jim to be a monster. Jim, though he may deny it, had this innocence, believing the best of everyone and everything. That wasn't to say he was gullible, as he didn't trust without reason, but he saw the potential in others and in the future and he fought for those people. He had this strong faith in life, and he would do anything to protect that. How could anyone like that be evil?

But you changed him. His mind protested. How much could a man take before they snapped? Was Jim at that breaking point? Did Leonard hurt his best friend irreparably? Was he the monster instead? God, if there was any other way, Bones wouldn't have done it. He would've done anything else. Anything. Maybe, he was selfish. No, he was selfish; he couldn't let Jim Kirk die like that. Betrayed like that. But he's alive. His treacherous mind protested. That's the important part. Jim may be suffering now, but he was alive, and Bones could help Jim through anything, whatever it was. Bones would be there. This could be faxed.

Leonard took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts back. He was a doctor damn it, and he had a patient to deal with. His emotional turmoil could wait. Refocusing his thoughts off himself, he concentrated on Jim. While Leonard believed that psychological trauma played a part, there was another possibility: brain damage. Jim died, and as soon as the heart stopped, the brain started to decay. As a Doctor, he knew what happened to the brain when it was deprived of oxygen. The list was long, but brain damage was not uncommon. Usually- depending on the person and situation-, doctors had 5 minutes to restore oxygen to brain before they risked permanent brain damage. Leonard had thought he made it in time, getting Jim into cryotube quickly, but you could never be sure.

The scans from the tricorder didn't show anything out of ordinary but that just confirmed Jim was physically fine, which wasn't what Leonard was worrying about. Jim's physical health—flawless in every way- was never the question, not after the show in the hospital. For a detailed examination of the brain, he needed to get Jim to the hospital; in the meantime, there were other ways he could get a base level on Jim's mental state. Carefully and as gently as he could, he asked, "Can you tell me who I am?"

Jim's feeble response was immediate. "Doctor Leonard McCoy, a Starfleet Medical officer." Jim's straightforward answer spoken without protest was a huge red flag. He never answered a medical question without a witty response or what he thought was a witty response. Jim liked to think he was funny but neither Spock nor he laughed.

"Yes." Leonard grinned. "But what do you call me?"

"What?"

"What's your nickname for me?" Bones loathed the nickname, thinking it was downright ridiculous, but he could not stop the blond from dubbing him Bones.

Jim bit on the inside of his cheek, his eyes searching for any kind of tell on Leonard's face. When he found none, he answered. "I don't know." He brought his knees up to his chest. "Sorry." His voice was tiny.

Leonard's heart broke at the pitifully voice that filled his ears. "It's okay, Jim." He replied softy. Did the memory lost concern Leonard? Yes, but the loss of memory wasn't uncommon. In addition to the blow to the head, Jim did die, and his brain was without air for a precious minute. Lowering his tricorder, he placed a gentle on Jim's knees and squeezed.

Burnham took a step forward, her arms tucked behind her back. "Captain Kirk-"

Leonard cut her off, glaring. "Captain Burnham." His voice cold.

"Captain Kirk," She started again, shooting McCoy a look of her own. "You mentioned your brother. What is his name?"

There was a tingle in Jim's glassy eyes, sparking under the sunlight as he lifted his head. "Sam," he uttered. "My brother's name is Sam." His blue eyes shone.

Leonard clocked the smug look on Burnham's face when she ginned at him. "How did you know he had a brother?"

"Kirk and I had a conversion prior to you getting here, and he had mentioned Sam in our conversion. From that, I can conduce that only parts of his memories are affected. I conject, based on several articles I have read, his memories will return given enough time."

"I wasn't aware you were a doctor." He snapped. "And that's only partly true, depending on the type of injury." With a deep inhale, he turned back to Jim, smiling. Jim was staring at him with his baby blues eyes, his emotions at the surface. Words were not spoke between Leonard and Jim; and yet, Leonard could read every scared emotion that riddled Jim. The fear was overwhelming, but that wasn't the only thing that stuck Leonard like a closed fist. Any trust that Jim and he had built up over the year was gone- his heart constricting painfully-, and there was silent harrowing plead in his eyes: don't hurt me. And yet, there was something else there, something warm. "Look at those eyes."

Jim's head bobbed, his hands shaking.

"You know Commander Spock once asked me if we could alter those blues eyes of yours." Leonard asked, the memory still amusing. Jim's eye twitched for a second. "Apparently he blamed those baby blue eyes of yours for all of the kidnapping attempts. He reasoned it would decrease the likelihood of abduction by…" he paused, thinking. "I don't remember the percentage, but it was enough that he looked baffled—as much as a hobgoblin could be—when I said fat chance in hell." A large goofy smile took up half his face.

"Hobgoblin?" Burnham questioned, exasperation laced in her eyes.

"It's what he calls Vulcans'." Jim replied, his voice frail.

Burnham's eyes nailed Leonard with a fierce glare, so fierce that the security officers were uncomfortable. "Really?!" She hummed. "Sounds like Xenophobia to me."

Leonard shot Jim a 'come on man' look before realizing he shouldn't be faulting Jim, who barely remembered his name, and schooled his expression. But really? He had to remember that?! Now?! "That's what you zero in on? Not the fact that a Commander, a Vulcan no less, wanted to know if I would change Kirk's eyes." There was no way in hell that he would change Jim's vivid eye eyes.

"He was only attempting to lower the likelihood of Captain Kirk being taken hostage." She spoke drily. "As unadvisable as the suggestion might have been, it was logical to ask."

An insult whirled around on Leonard's tongue, but he bit it back down. He didn't have time to go back and forth with the Captain, who was just as stiff as any Vulcan, and there was something more important to worry about: Jim. "Do you recall Commander Spock, Jim?" He asked Jim, lifting up the tricorder again.

"I don't know." Came his tiny, panicked voice.

Leonard wanted to push, as those words were so rich and intense that he was hit by an emotional tidal wave. However, before he could take them apart, a sudden movement past Burnham's shoulder caught his attention, pointy ears and a bowl cut. "Speak of the Devil." He sighed. At that, everyone followed his glanced, peeping over their shoulders. "Were your ears burning?"

Assessing the current situation, Spock's eyes narrowed for the second before he sharply asked, while coming to a stop next to Burnham, "How is Captain Kirk?" His large eyes zoomed in on Jim, holding him in an intense stare.

"Who called you?" Leonard demanded, not so nicely. He had no issue with Spock being here, but he hadn't been expecting the Vulcan, and with Jim in his current state, he did not care for unexpected surprises.

"Captain Burnham alerted me that she had located my Captain." Spock answered, his eyes still locked on Jim who had not shy away from the hot stare.

Leonard ignored the 'My Captain' part as he needed to get Jim back to the hospital. The crowd on the beach had only grown, and they were bounded to notice the equally growing group of Starfleet Officers. "I wasn't aware you two knew each other." He should've guessed those two knew each other base on their judgy tones.

"Captain Burnham is my sister."

Everyone, even Jim- the guy with the memory problems-, did a double take on that one. A what? Spock had a what? "Your what?! Did I hear that right?!" Leonard asked, his eyebrow in his hairline. How did Spock have a sibling that no one knew of? And how the hell was she human? Did she-"Nope. Nope. I'll save that little nugget for later." He forced his eyes down on Jim, who seemed to shrivel.

"Nugget, Doctor? I do not-" Interrupting her brother—her freaken Brother-, Burnham let out a sigh as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, silencing him with the simple touch. She whispered into Spock's ear, too soft for McCoy to hear.

"She's telling him I'm damaged," Jim murmured softly. "Unstable."

Leonard wide eyed stared at Jim, surprised both at the broken tenor that littered his best friend's voice and the fact that Jim could hear her. How the hell did he hear that? "I don't know Burnham, but she isn't saying that."

"But she is." His voice only dropped. "I can hear her."

Leonard could hear nothing but the waves, his heart skipping. Okay, he's got Khan's blood. But Super hearing? What did you expect? His traitorous mind whispered. There was no telling what other abilities that Jim had now in additional to his super strength. "You're not damaged. I refused to let you talk like that about my best friend, you hear me?" Jim sighed, breaking Leonard's heart. You did this to him. Shame filled McCoy, saturating him to his very core. You made him feel like this. You broke him.

"It would be wise to relocate Captain Kirk." Spock spoke, snapping Leonard from his treacherous thoughts. The Vulcan's eyes darted left to the group of people forming with recorders in their hands.

Leonard scowled before he forced a smile to face. "Can you stand, Jim?" Jim hesitated for a second before nodding. "Let's get you out of here." Jim being chased by rowdy fans with recorders or boastful rude reporters wasn't abnormal, as everyone wanted a picture of the famous Captain. The media was extremely interested in his personal life, which frustrated Jim to no end. Jim would play it off with a smile, but Leonard knew how much Jim hated it, the hatred spouting from a time where he was only seen as George Kirk's. Now, at least, they were looking at him instead of the ghost of George Kirk.

A quick glance to the crowd, Jim nodded with a weak smile, as Leonard helped him to his feet. Jim wasn't an infant, but it felt like he had to use all of his strength to pull Jim up. Spock, sensing his struggle, stepped forward to assist, but McCoy stopped him with a hand. "I got him."

*O*O*

Christopher Pike, his patience gone, would either be completely bald or gray by the year's end. He could also see a combination of the two, and it was all because of James T. Kirk and his ability to find trouble. The sounds of his pounding heart echoed in his ear like a stampede of wild bulls scampering away from a horde of lions. A small stress headache was forming at the base of his skull. When he received word that they found Jim and was bringing him in, a sizable weight was removed from his chest and he could finally breathe. He exhaled deeply, releasing the shaky breath he didn't know he was holding.

With Dr. Marcus painfully following his new hoverchair, Chris sped (or as fast as he could) to the hospital's underground personnel garage. If he weren't so anxious about Jim, he would've been embarrassed by the forced slow walk that Marcus was doing behind him. Hoverchairs had come a long way since their conception, speeds increasing, and with a proper cerebral interface, it could be controlled with a simple thought, but Chris protested the very idea of the procedure. To have that done was the acceptance of failure, and he wasn't accepting it. He was going to walk again. They were in the 23rd century, dammit. Anything was possible.

With a strong determination, he refused to allow this chair to win and focused on his physical therapy, but that dogged stubbornness would hurt him in the short termed as he was forced to use the limited hand controls, which restricted precise and rapid movements. His jerky movements reminded him of a child playing with a remote-control toy for the first time. If the twitching manifestations on Marcus' hard expression were to judge, she was itching to bolt pass him, but her manners kept her behind him like a hyper child fighting to keep her mouth shut.

However, their haste was not needed as they were in the dim garage prior to McCoy arriving with Jim, but that may have been worse as it allowed dangerous, treacherous ideas to spring up in him like weeds. Every few seconds, Chris leaned forward in his chair and looked for any oncoming hovercar; he jumped several times when he spotted one but flooded with heavy disappointment when he noticed it wasn't McCoy. The same disappointed flashed across Marcus' face when she stepped back to his side before returning to an awkward silence. Carol Marcus and Christopher Pike barely spoke two words before this, and it showed.

While Chris didn't fault her for her father's actions—a horrible thing to put on the child no matter the age-, he had no interest chatting or making small. Normally, he was a friendly guy and enjoyed connecting with his fellow officers, feeling it was important to make a connection with your crew. Yet, he was ready to snap and hit someone over the head with whatever he could get his hand on. His mood had been in the trash, which annoyed the Admiral, but he was told this was 'normal' after the hell he went through in the last two weeks. There was nothing wrong with how he was feeling. However, he didn't like the person he saw in the mirror and didn't trust himself to be civil in a conversion that he didn't want to have.

When the hovercar containing McCoy, Jim and two Security officers rounded the corner, Chris leapt—or attempted to more like it- out of his chair to meet them, his upper half flying forward, before he realized his damn legs didn't work. Marcus' hands shot forward, grabbing his shoulders, and prevented him from falling face first into the ground.

"Are you okay, Sir?" she asked, stunned.

"Yea," he grumped as he settled back in the chair. Fucken chair. A second hovercar pulled up behand the first, and when it came to a stop, Commander Spock quickly- but still gracefully- stepped out of the car his focus on the first. He was followed by Captain Burnham, a Captain he knew only by reputation and the fact that she was Spock's estranged adopted Sister. The kind of estranged that didn't talk, much like his older brother.

"I got it," came Jim's stressed, pained voice, breaking through the air like a knife.

"Don't be an Idjit," was McCoy's dry reply.

Chris's eyes zeroed in the two best friends as McCoy attempted to help Kirk out of car, but Kirk had no interest in the assist and swatted McCoy's hands away. "I am not infant." Jim shot back.

In the short message from McCoy, he noted that Jim had some memory lost, though it wasn't complete amnesia as Jim recalled a few random things. McCoy didn't go into detail on what these things were, but it had Chris worried. While there were a few things that he—like any father would be—would like Jim to forget, painful memories shaped you, carved you into the person that you were today; granted, there were a few things that Chris didn't want Jim relearning second hand, a few things that they had tiptoe around like Khan, Fucken Khan.

However, seeing Jim and Leonard banter warmed Chris's aching heart, and he wanted to get up and pull Jim into bear hug, shoving all of his love into him. Besides the fact he couldn't walk, that wasn't practical. It wasn't wise to greet someone with a back breaking hug when they had any form of amnesia. Chris forced himself still and only permitted himself to watch from the distance. He could only imagine how overwhelming it must be for Jim, having limited memories, being surrounded by strange people who expected things from him. They may not mean to tie him down with their expectations, but heavy, unspoken questions littered their stares, which pleaded for something he couldn't possibly give.

While some attempted to school their probing stares, Chris clocked the distressed, narrowing stare on Spock's face a mile away. Spock's worried gaze zoomed in on Jim, tracking any movement from the blond. The Vulcan would deny it, but a heavy declaration hung in his eyes, a declaration Jim had no hope in deciphering in this state. Spock, no doubt, had recognized this and was forcing himself to back, a stiff tension soaking his body. To most, there was no difference, but his eyes betrayed him. Even before Chris got to know him, the Vulcan had the most animated eyes. Normally Vulcans' eyes weren't as opened and expressive as Spock's, but Spock had his mother's eyes, his human mother's eyes.

Jim pushed away from McCoy, who stumbled and tripped. He lost his bounce for a second before he caught himself. "I can walk." He snapped.

"I didn't say you couldn't." McCoy countered sharply.

Once Jim was fully out of the car, Chris observed the man, taking him apart inch by inch. The first thing he noticed about the boy he considered a son was that he was covered in dirt, a head to toe. What the hell did he do? His once white hospital scrubs were blacken, and if Chris didn't know they were white, he would've thought them gray. Black smudges, though dry, covered his face and hands. His feet—shoeless—were completely black. It looked like he ran through a tar field.

"Stop-" The words died in Jim throat as his vivid blue eyes sparkled and locked with Chris'. Any protest in his boy vanished, and his hardened battle-ready expression slipped from his face. The sudden seer openness on Jim's face shocked the hell out of Chris, but it could've been the fact that Jim closed the distance between them within seconds and flung himself at Chris. He barely processed the exclamations of those around them before he had a chest full of a dirty, smell Jim Kirk. The hover chair slid back a foot by the force and nearly tipped over.

Even thought he had a Kirk size blanket, he could see the tension in each of the surrounding officers, a few hands on a few phasers, which Admiral Pike would dress down later. After getting over the initial shock, Chris became painfully aware of the discomfort in his chest radiating from where Jim tackled him. "Easy, Son. Old Man here," he articulated slowly and loudly.

Jim's voice, his hot breath tickling his neck, was so soft that Chris barely heard it. "Sorry." He replied softly and woefully, as his grip loosened up on the Admiral.

Before Jim could release Chris completely, Chris wrapped his arms tightly around the boy, keeping him close. Having seen the famed video, Chris was aware that Jim could break his hold at any time, but all the tension in Jim faded and he relaxed into the elder man, almost sitting in his lap. "It's okay." Pike whispered to into his hair. Jim's wet tears rolled down his cheeks and onto Chris's uniform. Having known the kid for years, he knew it took a lot for the kid to be this open and vulnerable with or without memories. It warmed his heart to have Jim crying in his lap even if he was heavy. "I got you."

"Admiral Pike." Spock called as he took a step forward as if to relieve him.

Pike shot him a 'don't you even think about it' glare. "I got him, Commander." The tone on his voice was a clear warming to all who attempted to pull Jim off him.

McCoy, exasperated and exhausted, wanted to move this little show inside, so he could run countless tests on Jim. He listed several that he wanted to run on Jim, who groaned into Pike's neck. While Admiral Pike did not disagree that these tests were necessary, he was no in rush to move Jim, especially after he panicked and ran earlier. He wanted to settle him first before they did anything. Instead, he tightened his hold even if Jim dirtied his uniform. Doctor McCoy be damned. With authority no one dared to challenge, they remained like that for a good ten minutes to the discomfort to everyone else—mostly Spock.

*O*O*

Jim hadn't wanted to leave Pike's side, gluing himself to the Admiral who did not push him away. It was a bit comical and awkward with Chris's hoverchair. Everyone, including Chris, was a bit stunning by the frantic, clingy reaction that Jim, memories missing, had displayed like a frighten child clinging to their parents. Spock theorized that while Jim did not have his complete memories, he retained certain sensation, which had allowed him to remember certain events and people like his Brother and his death. It was understandable that these powerful emotions, like the agony Jim had experienced when he hovered over Pike's broken body, imprinted on Jim in some level, and the moment in the garage was the first time that Jim had seen Chris since he left his side to captain the Enterprise.

That explanation made sense to Chris, even if there was a gnawing feeling in his gut that he could not explain. Stop it, Pike told himself. Jim was back and that was the only thing that mattered. Whatever Jim needed Pike would make sure he got it. Jim would not feel abandoned or overwhelmed, as Chris would be there for whatever the kid needed. Jim's panicked look while McCoy led him to an exam room would forever be etched in Chris's mind, and while Jim kept looking over his shoulder at him, Chris had to remind himself that he was an Admiral and he had self-control. Chasing down McCoy and Jim would not do anyone any good. Jim was in good hand. Pike knew that, but that terrified look triggered his pappa bear instincts. How could a person love anyone this much? He never loved any of his exes to this degree.

As time passed, a party grew in the waiting room. Chris wasn't sure how they found out of about Jim, but he supposed it wouldn't have taken much. They were attached to Captain Kirk. In quiet tones, Captain Burnham and Spock were at the window speaking, which earned a few stares from the group. Chris wasn't aware of what occurred to make Spock's and Michael's relationship so stained, but he knew it sprouted from a childhood fight. Chris only knew this because of Amanda, Spock's mother, who had late it slip on one of her visits to Earth. She was frustrated by her son stubbornness.

In addition to those two, Carol Marcus was sitting in the corner, Uhura at her side. They were whispering away. Correction, Uhura was whispering hastily at Marcus, a silent demand on her face. Scotty and Sulu, crowded near the entry, stared down the hallway consistently searching for any sign of McCoy or Nurse Chapel. Chekov, wildly waving his hands in the air, paced the room, muttering in Russian. Saavik, when asked, translated the Russian mess that the kid was spewing. Even as seasoned as he was, it colored Chris's cheeks, as that kid could curse with the best of them.

Saavik kept close to Pike. If it was anyone else, he might've been annoyed by the Vulcan, but she wasn't hovering because she thought him weak. She hovered because he was the best source of information. He was also the only person in this room who had any legal right to Jim's medical records. The case could be made for Commander Scott as he was Jim's First Officer, even if it had yet to be made official. So, standing by him was strategic, and while Chris did not approve of being 'used', he enjoyed it rather than being pitied. Spock was like that as well, even with their friendship. That was one reason why he liked Vulcans better, as they would always give it to you straight.

This was a weird bunch to say the least, and each were ready to burst with their clashing personalities, especially when certain officers didn't get along. He had no idea why Saavik and Uhura disliked each other, even if they both denied it. He knew why there was bad blood between some; the situation still made Chris's skin crawl. How the hell did that even happen? Don't go there. That was the past and there was no need to look. It was time to forgive and move forward. He simply wished the officers in this room could follow suit and learn to work together again.

*O*O*

In additional to the time it took to convince Jim to consent to examinations, it took a long ten minutes to convince the doctor to permit Jim to shower by himself. While seeing McCoy brought out some powerfully emotions, Jim didn't feel comfortable showering in front of him. Jim had seen the fear in McCoy's eyes, and although he understood it, he didn't need help to shower. His body was in perfect physical shape and needed no assistance. A lack of memories wouldn't stop him from showering, which he explained- or rather yelled at McCoy. Still raw from earlier, he had no control in emotional state at the moment.

After a heavy groan, Leonard relented and permitted Jim to shower alone with the stipulation that the door was opened a crack and he would be waiting just outside. So besides, both being crimson in the cheeks and uncomfortable, Jim felt like a child with the stipulation, but he went along with it. He was too emotionally exhausted to fight with McCoy. Plus, the more he fought, the longer it took to return to Pike's side. Pike made him feel human again, and he needed that like he needed air.

You are a monster.

You shouldn't be alive.

You will be just like him. Just like Khan. Just end it now.

Jim shook his head, forcing on Pike and McCoy. With McCoy, he knew the doctor was important to him, as this familiar warmth radiated through him at the sight of him. If Leonard hadn't explained they were best friends, Jim would've known. A bond existed that couldn't be destroyed even when half of it didn't remember. Without these memories, the profound emptiness in Jim's belly ate at him, making his insides raw. Some of his memories had a sharp edge that could cut him like butter, and even now he could feel it when he nudged them, but there was this heavy hunger in his heart that could not be quenched.

And he really wanted to remember. He recalled the rumbling quake that ran throughout his body when he laid eyes on the lanky Vulcan standing beside Captain Burnham. Like with Leonard, Jim knew him, and the quake was a painful flame that warmed and terrified him at the same time. Jim had no idea why there so many conflicting emotions warring inside of him. He knew it was mutual from the intense gaze in the Vulcan's eyes. It held Jim in place with questions that he needed to know the answers to. Love was foreign to him right now, but if he had to judge, it was love that burned into him with intensity, which unnerved Jim. Who the hell was this man? Why was there much pain there?

Then there was Chris Pike. Christopher Pike was the only name and face he remembered on its own, and though he didn't recall much about their relationship, there was no forgetting the love between them. Jim knew Chris wasn't his biological father, but every fiber screamed father to him. Flashes passed quickly before Jim's eyes as of them chilling on a sofa together, sharing a meal together, and laughing together. It was difficult to put into words the feeling in his chest when he spotted Chris. One sensation screamed louder than the rest: relief. It settled deep in his bones.

The fear was intense with the last two images that flashed: Pike's bloody body flashed on the floor and Pike's stiff form on a bio bed. He remembered sitting by Chris's bedside and the fear that Pike would never wake. So, when he saw Chris, he leapt at the man, refusing to let him go no matter who tried to pull him off. Wherever Chris went, he would go. Everyone else will be damned.

"Are you okay in there?" Leonard asked, knocking on the door lightly.

Jim, feeling somewhat better after the hot shower, let out exhausted sigh as he pulled on a set of cleaned hospital scrub. "Yes." He huffed as he run a towel over his wet hair.

Pushing the door open completely, Leonard gave him a once over. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." He replied, not really having an answer. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, only that he was feeling less melodramatic than he was on the beach. Felt more human but still a monster. Seeing Chris, even in a hoverchair, lifted him, and while that odd feeling in his chest was there, the warmth from Chris was overpowering.

The Doctor gave him a look that screamed 'I don't believe you,' but he did not push. Instead, he pointed to the bio-bed. "Let's get a full scan of that pretty brain of yours." He smiled weakly. "The quicker we do this, the less likely the door will be busted down. And I bet you want to get back to Pike."

Staring at the door, Jim nodded. He did not like being away from Chris. "Okay."

*O*O*

Khan Noonien Singh was said to hold a great many qualities, but patience was not one of them, and that was on full display. Sitting in a 10 by 6 cell stole any patience he had and left him irritated. He was biting at the bit to tear open the force field and rip the heads off of every officer he saw. His teeth bared, a desire of revenge simmering just beneath his skin. It was an insult to be in this cell, a cell that he would rip apart from its seam. His fury was heavy in the air and even the heavily armed guards stationed just outside the cell could feel it.

However, at the moment, there was no escape. As strong as he was, he could not beat a forcefield at max strength, but nothing could not last forever, and he would spot a weakness with time. Technology had a weakness, especially when governed by weak humans. If they were smart, they would've returned him to sleep with his crew immediately. He was aware of why he was still awake: they demanded answers to their countless questions. While Khan had no interest in their inquiries—their rumbles bored him-, he answered, and he answered truthfully.

The more honest answers he gave the more the opened the cell, and each time they took him from these walls, it increased his chance of escape. And as they wildly underestimated him, he took in his surroundings, clocking each pattern on the wall. Counting each step between the doors. Remembering the layout of the building with each step taken. Putting to memory the number and species of the officers he had seen. He snooped on the hushed conversions as he passed, listening for any info. Security, tried as they might to restrict his abilities and limit his exposure to unnecessary personal, did not do enough as he saw and heard everything. Their threats of violence were meaningless when they could not break his bones. He would get out of here. It was just a matter of time, and when he did, he would end them all.

Khan was currently sitting at the back of the cell, his eyes closed, as he listened to the whispers of the officers. The two officers at his cell were silent, their back stiff; rather, it was the security officers at the desk near the entrance that were speaking. Miscalculating his abilities, they believed they were speaking softly enough to hide their words from him, but they were not. Normally, their conversions were as boring as they were, speaking about their planned nights or some mundane problem with their life partner. It was unprofessional to say the least, even he knew that. Khan wanted to rip out his own ears when he heard them but hearing Kirk's name upon their lips sparked something inside of him.

Hearing about James's death from Spock affected Khan more than he expected or cared for. James was not allowed to have this kind of hold on him; because of that emotional hold, he was distracted for a second, and during that second, the Vulcan got the upper hand. At first, he denied the pull to James, labeling it as lust, and while it was lustful—James tasting sweet-, something lingered just beneath it. It wasn't love that much Khan was sure of. He would toss Kirk over a cliff to save his crew in a heartbeat, but he would not want to do so. He would love to throw Commander Spock over a cliff and fire lasers at his head as he fell.

"They found Captain Kirk on the beach in nothing more than a hospital grown." One hushed.

Khan's eyes flickered open, zeroing in on the chatting officers.

"It's all over the news." The other spoke as he passed a PADD to his colleague. "They're already speculating on his condition."

Khan, startling the officers, leapt to his feet, determination setting in his eyes, and crossed to the barrier.

The two officers near him jumped. "Stand back," the once silent guard on the left, confusion heavy in his eyes, ordered, turning his phaser rifle toward Khan. Khan normally complied with orders as that lead to relaxed guards. "Or we will stun you."

Khan leveled him a cold look. "Captain James Kirk." He replied coldly. "Is he alive?"

"Why do you care?" the other heavily armed guard sneered. "Didn't you try to destroy the Enterprise?"

"Is. He. Alive.?" Khan retorted, slowly and sternly. "I demand to know."

"I will fire." The first guard instructed.

Khan turned, a growl deep in his throat. "You and I are both aware those toys will not work on me." He nailed the officer with a cold look. "Is Captain Kirk alive?" Before he was knocked out, he heard Saavik mentioning a way of saving Kirk, but he had no way in confirming it was successful. No one mentioned Kirk around him, which displeased him. For some reason, Khan needed to know.

"Yes." Came the strained reply. "Now move back."

An odd sensation that Khan could not explained rolled through him. "I want to see him."

The rifle sung as the officer powered it up. "Fat chance. Step back."

Khan chuckled. "You will need more than that to take me down." He licked his lips and took a step forward. "Lower the force field and find out." That, of course, would be a mistake, a mistake Khan would use to kill them before they fired a single shot. The field force remained up, preventing Khan from taking action, and he was unable to stop the guards from firing. Unfortunately, the force shield did not prevent the guards from shotting at him. It took seven shots before darkness overtook Khan.

While the world turned black, two things filled his mind: his crew and James. He would escape this cell and reunited with his crew. If along the way, he located James so be it. James, willingly or forcibly, would come with them on their journey to the stars. He earned that right when he survived. He was a warrior. In time, James would come around and Khan would make sure nothing happened to him again.

He had suffered enough.

Author Note:

1) So Khan is getting obsessed with Jim. Keyword obsessed. I want to make it clear that he does not love him. He just wants to control him. Maybe, if he wasn't so set on world domination and killing people, he could love Jim, but then, he would not be the Khan we love. LOL

2) Star Trek Discovery- as you are aware, I have kinda introduced it by using Burnham, but I am only drawing influence from it. As Discovery is in the Prime universe (which people like to fight about- enter eye roll-) and not in the Kelvin timeline, I do not consider the events in that show as (What is the word i am looking for?) part of the timeline for my story. With Kelvin destroyed by A Romulan ship, I think Kelvin timeline version of Starfleet would be more worried about Romulans than Klingons. I believe this would change the course of everyone's life on the show. In my story, crew of the Discovery does not go to the future. Burnham gets her own ship. She is still Spock's step sister.

Anyhow, i hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you think.