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Chapter 17:

My Kid

Jim Kirk was perfect, but Chris would never tell Jim that, memory intact or no memory. Bones rolled his eyes heavily when Chris uttered the words, muttering how this was going to go to the idiot's head when he regained his memories. As Chris stared at Bones, Chris couldn't help but wonder if that was possible. Jim was just a shell of his former shelf, and it was hard to envision this man as James T. Kirk that he knew. Jim was collapsing into himself, hiding behind his silence. Doctor McCoy and Doctor Jones both ensured him this was normal.

Spock nodded when he heard the word, which Chris didn't find surprising considering Jim was perfect in his eyes. The Vulcan was a love sick puppy regarding Jim. However, when Pike said perfect, he meant physical. Yet, perfect wasn't the best description of Jim's conditions. That would imply that Jim was at an 100% and he wasn't. His stats, his body muscles, his stamina, his everything were beyond 100%… Chris let out a sigh as Bones explained in great detail how Jim's physical physique improved. Bones noted that he wasn't sure if this effected his cognitive abilities, especially when it came to memories. From what he could tell, Jim's recall and short-term memories had improved, but no telling on existing memories, which were missing.

Simply, Jim was augmented. He wasn't at Khan's level, but he was definitely augmented.

Fucken augments.

The very word left a bad taste in Chris' mouth. From an incredibly young age, he had heard nothing but negative sentiments toward any enhanced person. With Earth's history, there was reasons to it, though some of it was superficial. The Federation heavily frowned on any kind of augmentations, and any person, who was genetically enhanced, was barred from serving in Starfleet. Any person caught in this illegal activity was arrested and charged. Chris had thought the punishments were a bit harsh considering this this was common practice on other worlds and some parents had genuine reasons for seeking it.

Yet, considering the recent events, Chris could not criticize them. Fear was a powerful motivator. Because of the actions of Khan, an augment, and Marcus, a large, wrecked starship laid in the middle of the city, destroying several buildings; the loss of life was enormous. Weeks later, bodies, some unrecognizable, were still being pulled from the rumble and debris, which did nothing for moral or public image. Chris, hoverchair bound, could only watch, and observe as officers worked night and day to clear it. Even if privacy fences were erected to block the view of the public, an audience still formed. This deadly scene did not settle minds or loosen any believes on augments.

Fucken augments.

And fucken Leonard McCoy. The Doctor was lucky to have his Medicare License, though that could be taken away at any moment. He was fortunate that he hadn't been arrested and jailed. Starfleet didn't appreciate it when their doctors preforming untested, unauthorized treatments on their famous Captains and affectively creating more augments. There were only two reasons why McCoy was a free man: one, he didn't intend to genetically modified Captain Kirk, and two, Admiral Pike was boisterous. Pike had been fighting to the nail for both Jim and Leonard, going hoarse in the process. He was able to sway some of the Admirals, though he was getting the 'You're too close to Captain Kirk line,' which just pissed him off. No one told Barnett he was too close to his kid.

"This is a shit show," Barnett sighed.

"I know, Richard." Pike huffed. "But-"

"You're too close to this."

This wasn't the first time Pike had heard those words. The first time was two weeks after Kirk had enlisted into Starfleet. The other Professors often called Jim his puppy, his supposed pet project, because apparently that was an actual thing. It wasn't his fault that Jim took to him like a lost puppy. The kid, as that was what he was, needed someone who truly cared for him, and when Jim beamed up at Chris with his baby blues after the tiniest of compliments, Pike was done for. How could someone look at Jim and not love him?

"I refuse to allow Starfleet to sideline Captain Kirk over something outside his control." He sternly stated.

Barnett groaned. "I get it, Chris, but we can't deny everything that Kirk has been through in the last few years. Shit, he isn't even 30 yet. I'm surprise he's still sane." He huffed, "And now, he's augmented? You know how strict the Federation and Starfleet is regarding that."

"This isn't some random officer. It's Kirk that we're speaking about. His record speaks for itself, and I repeat, it wasn't like he chose this. He didn't."

"We know, Chris. Nothing I decided yet. We aren't in any hurry to make one. We're still trying to get through the mess Marcus left." Barnett paused.

Chris wasn't sure how much time Jim had before the Admiralty decided, but he would provide Jim with all the support that he could. That was one reason why he had offered Kirk his home to recover. No one, including Starfleet command, savored the idea of Jim living on his own, but they also agreed that keeping Jim in the hospital would be detrimental in the long run. They needed to create a safe haven for Jim. Right now, that was at Pike's side.

Light steps on metal stairs drew Admiral Pike from his rancorous thoughts and he turned. He blew out softly when he noticed Doctor Jones, with a PADD against his narrow hips, descend the steps, his ginger tail swinging behind him. His wavy orange hair popped against Pike's monotone gray walls. The smile wasn't as bright as when he walked up the stairs to Jim's room. Hope was still set in his eyes, but a sadness had creeped in. Jones was just as skilled as Jim was with his expressions and would never let his person emotions leak through. This worried Pike.

Chris moved toward the steps, as if a few meters would allow him to get his questions answered quicker. Pike's house wasn't huge, but it wasn't tiny. It had two bed rooms: one master and one guest. Pike had offered Jim the master, considering Pike wasn't making it up the stairs in his current hoverchair (thought some versions could), but Jim outright refused and took the guest, saying Pike would need his room back once he got back to feet. That was one thing Jim certain about. Currently, Pike's home office on the first floor was turned into a make shift bedroom for him.

"How's our boy?" Pike anxiously asked when Dr. Jones made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Jones didn't answer right away, his words dancing back and forth on his green tongue. He glanced back up the steps for a moment before turning back to Pike. "Jim has given me permission to speak with you, but-"

"But what?"

"But in my opinion, to do so would be a betrayal. Even though he has given me permission—suspect when you considering his memory loss-, I need him to know that he can trust me. He needs to know his words, his fears, stay with me. This doesn't work if he doesn't trust me." Jones stated evenly.

"He doesn't trust you?" A sense of uneasiness filled Pike's voice.

Jones didn't answer quickly, pondering. "Would you be so trusting of a person who had a say in whether you will fly again, Admiral?"

Even though therapists had been around for thousands of years, there was an innate distrust in them. Pike couldn't deny that even he had this distrust in him regarding therapists. There was nothing wrong with seeing one or seeking support and assistance when needed, and he would always recommend, without judgement, a therapist to anyone who needed one. It was an internal battle to accept help for one's self as that would require admitting a problem existed, which was harder said than done. "No, I would not."

Glancing upstairs for a second time, Jones replied. "What I can tell you is that, even with the memory loss, Jim is acting like anyone else would in his situation. He's questioning his existence. With the trauma he had faced, it's amazing he's even standing."

"It probably helps that he doesn't remember most of them." By them, Pike thought of Salean, who had almost destroyed Jim.

Jones hummed as he crossed to the living room sofa. "It's possible the Captain knows more than he's saying." He exhaled. "Regardless, I do believe that we should limit triggering memories for now."

"That doesn't vibe with what Doctor McCoy advised." Pike countered, hastily. McCoy wanted them to start slowly triggering memories.

"No offense to Doctor McCoy," Jones sullenly responded, running his hand across the back of the sofa. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he paused. "But Jim has traumas in his life that—if I can use the Human expression- could knock anyone on their ass. We have to be careful." Jones hesitantly glanced at the steps, as if he heard something. "I have no doubt Jim will regain his memories given time. He was able to recall my name after a few minutes of talking with me."

"But you want to limit and slow that down."

"Yes. I want to deal with one trauma before we trigger another. While he may have dealt with some already, he may have to deal with each of them again as if facing them for the first time."

Pike exhaled slowly, as he leaned back in his chair. "I get it."

Nodding, Jones smiling weakly. "So we-"

Heavy footsteps on the metal stairs drew their attention. Pike's heart skipped when Jim suddenly appeared and made his way down the steps. His expression was masked, and for once in his life, Chris was unable to read him. "Hey, Kid."

Jim didn't return the greeting and asked, "What are you two talking about?" The mistrust that Jones spoke about flashed across his eyes.

Jones smiled as he stepped back to the steps. "Admiral Pike and I were discussing limiting your visitors, Jim. We have spoken about this in our session."

"Yea," Jim replied, his jaw grinding.

"I'll leave it up to you to choose one or two people. Granted, Doctor McCoy will be on that list." He stated sternly. "You can't keep the Doctor away."

There's something there. Chris thought to himself, noticing the grimace on Jim's face. It could be the memory loss, easing the epic friendship that McCoy and Kirk shared and morphing McCoy into a pushy and controlling person with no redeeming characteristics. The first time Pike met McCoy he couldn't see the appeal as McCoy told you exactly what he thought without any care to a person's feelings. After a while, after viewing Jim and Leonard together, Pike finally saw why those two got together so seamlessly.

Jim groaned loudly but didn't respond. Pike shot Doctor Jones a septically look, the smile on his face too forced. "Is everything okay?" Chris asked.

Doctor Jones turned to him. "Yes. Jim just doesn't want the hovering McCoy is known for."

"Well, somethings hadn't change." Chris smiled, though not completely believing that.

"So, Jim-"

The doorbell whistled throughout the house, silencing the group. Chris leaned over the arm of his hoverchair as he stared at the door. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make a guess. It wasn't McCoy. Though McCoy liked to randomly pop in to check on Jim, McCoy somewhat respected Pike's rank and would shoot Chris a text, a heads up. Granted, sometimes it was only a 5 minutes heads up, but Pike took it, especially if he were in the shower. "Who could that be?"

"It's the Vulcan from before." Jim answered, his eyes laser focused on the door.

Pike glanced at the door for a second before looking at Jim. From his angle, there was no way he could tell who was at the door unless he activated the video feed. "How do you know that?"

Jim grimaced again, his fist flexing at his side.

Jones stepped toward Jim. "Are you okay, Jim?" he asked, eyeing Jim's tense shoulders.

The bell rang again. Though the volume did not change, it sounded louder. Pike would dare say deafening when it rang for the third time.

"Yea," Jim muttered.

"How do you know it's him?" Jones prompted, ignoring the angry buzzer. The person at the front grew more unsettled with each passing second if the time between rings were any kind of implication.

A strange reverberation hummed at the back of Jim's throat. "I feel like I should, but I don't." He huffed in frustration.

"Jim, he-"

Jones put hand up to silence Chris. "It's okay, Jim." He replied. "There's no rush. We're not in a race."

Jim groaned as the bell rung again. He breathed in slowly through his noise, the frustration rolled off him like a heavy smoke. Pike knew Jim was exasperated with this entire thing, and he couldn't blame him. "Answer the door," Jim demanded as he turned his back to the door. "He seems like the type to break down the door."

Spock? Spock did not seem like the type to break down the door…. Unless Jim was involved. As Pike stared at Jim's flat shoulders going up the steps, he could admit that he would do the same to get to Jim. Chris, though he could never make it up the steps, attempted to follow after Jim in the hopes of comforting him. The door rang again and distracted him enough to not notice Jones move until he was right in front of him with a firm look. "Move."

"Admiral Pike, as a fellow father, I understand, but we must give Jim space. Not all the time, but we can't hover."

A warmth flashed in Chris' chest at Jones recognizing Jim's and his bond. "Jim-"

"I know." Jones smiled as he placed a gentle hand on Chris' shoulder. "Besides, you aren't getting up their steps."

Forcing back a laugh, silence fell as Pike pondered Jones' words. He didn't like the idea of Jim sitting alone in his room, sulking, but he knew Jim never did well when people hovered over his shoulder. "Fine."

Jones's hand dropped from the shoulder to the hoverchair, directing him toward the door. "Let's answer before Commander Spock before breaks down the door." The bell buzzed again.

Normally, Pike would deny that, but the number of rings contested that. "Yes, I don't want to replace my door." He allowed the Doctor to direct him to the door. A conflicted look, that Chris could spot a mile away, fell onto Jones' face. "You okay?" he asked.

Peaking over his shoulder, Jones waited until they were at the door before he let his nervousness wash over him. His teeth biting down on his lower lip, he eyed the hallway that Jim disappeared through.

The bell ranged, Spock not having any of that Vulcan patience he was known for. "Hold your horses," he yelled, slapping the door. Pained flickered in his hand and up his arm. He wasn't sure if Spock heard him through the heavy door, but if anyone could, it would be him. "What is it?" he asked, turning his attention back to Jones.

Jones, in a moment of unprofessionalism, let out a deep, irritated sigh. "Just keep eye on Doctor McCoy."

"Why?" Pike stated slowly. If there was one person he trusted around Jim, it was McCoy.

"I know you clocked the discomfort from the Jim when I mentioned Doctor McCoy."

"I did." The bell did not whistle again. "Any reason why?" Jones gave Pike an exasperated look, which earned a sigh from the Admiral. Why bring it up if he wasn't allowed to ask why? "You got to give me something."

The alien Therapist stared at Pike for a few seconds, opening and closing his mouth several times, before deciding to speak. "Jim is currently resenting McCoy for reviving him with Khan Noonien Singh's blood. While I feel he's too harshly judging the man, he has the right to feel what he feels."

Pike knew better to than to ask for more. Besides, that was enough, and he got it. From what Captain Burnham told him, Jim was questioning why he was why he revived. "Okay. I'll keep an eye out for any discomfort from Jim."

Puffing, Jones' tail wildly whipped behind him. "If it was up to me, a different doctor would've been assigned to his case until we worked past this, but Starfleet wants to limit the number of personal who know about Jim's condition."

That speech had been going around with veiled threats hanging in the air to anyone who dared to break it. "Probably best to keep a doctor around who knows Jim's medical history." Jones didn't respond but he didn't agree.

Instead of pushing the conversion, Pike turned his attention to the door and pulled it open to reveal Commander Spock, who looked oddly disheveled at having to have waited, and Commander Scott, who looked positively nervous as he rocked back and forth on his heals.

"Commander Spock," Jones welcomed, after shooting a warning look to Pike. "It's good to see you again." He turned his attention to Scotty. "Doctor Jones." He did not hold out his hand, merely bowing to the two Commanders.

Scotty clumsily wave. "Commander Scott."

Spock zeroed in on Doctor Jones. "Doctor Jones." He greeted, raising his right hand in his normal greeting. "I was not aware you were here."

"I was just leaving." Jones turned and bowed to Pike. After straightening, he added, "Please remember what we spoke about. have a good evening." With that, he moved passed the Commanders and headed to his hovercar that was parked across the street.

"Is everything okay, Admiral?" Spock's eyes followed Jones for two seconds before turning his attention back to Pike.

That was a loaded question. "What do you need Spock?" he asked from the doorway.

"We have something to discuss with you."

Pike didn't like the tone in his First Officer's voice. How could Spock sound so calm and concerned at the same time? "What is it?"

"May we come in, Sir?" Scotty asked, peeping into Pike's home.

Judging by the sterned look on Spock's face and the jitter in Scotty's step, this was a conversion best not to have outside, but he was worried about inviting these two inside. "Fine, let's talking in my off—" He cut himself off as he almost referenced his office, which didn't exist anymore; instead, it was his bedroom. His fucken bedroom. No, he wasn't bitter. He didn't have the habit of bringing men into his bedroom, but he wasn't going to have this meeting in the living room where Jim listen in. "Follow with me." His eyes immediately were trained on the steps for any sign of Jim. With Jim's super hearing—something Pike had to get to use to-, he could hear them even in hush whispers from the top of the steps. "Hurry."

"Very well, Sir." Spock followed his glance before giving him a probing look. He nodded and headed to Pike's makeshift bedroom. Scotty, still twitchy, trailed behind the Vulcan. The hoverchair hummed as Chris followed behind.

*O*O*

The fluttering in his stomach told Chris that he wouldn't enjoy this conversion, and if he was going be on the receiving end of some bad news, he was going to be comfortable, which meant not sitting in this fucken chair. While both looked uncomfortable, Spock and Scott offered to assist when he transferred himself from the hoverchair to his luxury office chair. In the beginning, he would blush at the assistance when he struggled, but he pretty much had it down to a science, only flopping down a couple of times. His legs weren't completely useless, which helped even if he could only move them a few inches.

His desk was pushed to the corner and one of the loungers had been removed to make room for the bed, a bed that both Commanders were avoiding. Scotty, too jittery for Pike's likening, stood by the door, ready to bolt. Spock stood stiff a few feet from him, a serious expression plastered to his face. "I'm not in the mood for games. Just cut to the chase."

Spock nodded. "Are you aware of Captain Kirk's relationship with Khan Noonien Singh?" There was so much venom behind the word 'Relationship' that Pike felt like he had been slapped.

Chris wasn't aware of the relationship until McCoy informed him of it. It had been the topic of a few inquiries. While there was no proof of a relationship, there were rumors. Kirk was charming and a flirt even when he wasn't trying, and considering Khan, working as Harrison, worked alongside Kirk on the Providence for months, it wasn't a stretch. Jim, still healing from Salean's assault and the breakup from Spock, bathed in any kind of attention, and though he would originally fight it, given enough time with consistent praises and care, Jim would give in. While both Barnett and Komack, no matter the truth, trusted in Jim's loyalty in Starfleet, the rumors of a possible relationship caused some to doubt Jim. With Marcus' betrayal fresh in their heads, they were paranoid and suspicious. That fact lone made command want to strip Jim until command. It took over an hour for Komack to calm him down.

"How dare they hold an unverified rumor against him?! Should I hold Admiral Marcus against them?"

"Chris."

"NO! Everyone was tricked by Marcus." The name left a bad taste in Pike's mouth. "Kirk shouldn't be held accountable for a fucken rumor."

"Chris."

"And who the hell cares if they did? Khan tricked countless people! Hundreds of people worked on Providence. Should we strip them of rank too?"

The anger he felt that day still scared him. He could recall how badly he shook trying to control himself. "Yes," Pike answered, slowly. While it was just a rumor to the admiralty, he knew it wasn't, but he wasn't going to confirm it, not when there were sharks in the water. "Why?" he asked. When Khan and Jim dated- the word feeling wrong-, he had been aware there was a guy. Jim, with a blush on his face, had refused to name or say anything, wanting to keep the relationship to himself. He didn't want to share it yet, but since Pike hadn't seen Jim that happy in a while, he didn't push. If Jim was happy, that was all that mattered. He wished he had now.

Spock, monotone, explained how the now deceased Marcus had sent Khan to Jim with the sole purpose of getting him into bed and recording their sessions. The corner of Spock's lips curled as he noted the number of time Khan record them. Pike felt lightheaded when Spock continued. Marcus had used the videos to blackmail Seleen into providing him with off the book's resources, which he used on Vengeance. While it hadn't come to it, Marcus had intended to use to blackmail him if he disagreed or attempted to go around him, but that wouldn't have ended up the way Marcus thought it would. Chris, busted legs or not, would have taken a phaser and murdered him.

Lastly, Marcus had planned to used Jim as a scaped goat, painting the famous Captain as a traitor, in case his plan went south. It was at this point that Scotty took a step forward and explained what happened onboard the Vengeance Bridge. Anger littered scotty's once nervous face as he explained how devastated Jim was when Marcus played the sex tapes in front of everyone on the bridge. While apologizing to God for being delighted that someone was killed, Scotty was glad that Khan smashed Marcus' face in. "It was disgustin'."

If Scotty was this enraged, Spock had to be boiling. Usually, Chris could read his First Officer, but he was currently unable to, his face stone. There was a firm shield around the Vulcan's emotions, locking them away. "Why am I just hearing about this now?" he demanded, his voice catching on the high tones. These videos were be the proof that certain Admirals needed to sideline Jim permanently. Pike had always been haunted by the possibility of Jim's sex types, but those concerns circled around consensual sex types. It was a different ballgame when someone filmed them without his consent and used a fake identity.

"I was only made aware of it a few days ago." Spock answered, stiffly.

Scotty, his anger gone, took a step forward. "T-that's my fault, Sir. I didn't know w-who to go to. Didn't know who to trust." He paused. "I had attempted to reach you, but-"

Pike, who had been working on fumes for the last few weeks, raised his hand to silence the stuttering Engineer. "I get it," he stated with a harsh sigh. He hadn't been the easiest person to get ahold of lately between the meeting with Starfleet Command and being at Jim's side. Countless unread messages sat in his inbox waiting for a response.

"Commander Scott reached out to me when we were waiting on an update on Captain Kirk." Spock answered.

"And you didn't think to read me in on this?" Pike demanded, irritated. He would've made time for this. "No, never mind." He huffed. "Too late now. Where are these videos?" He had no interest in watching them, but he needed to know who had them and how much damage he was looking at.

"Gone, Sir." Spock answered. "I deemed there was no need for the records."

Pike's hand went to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Gone how? Don't tell me you deleted them, Commander." Spock didn't answer. Pike lowered his hand and glared at Spock, who only returned his stare. "Commander!" he hissed.

"You ordered me not to tell you."

"You destroyed evidence, Spock!" he snapped, though relieved at the same time.

Spock's left eyebrow went up. "Yes, I did. Would you rather I gave the recordings to command?" Spock inquired, his stare cold.

Besides the fact that those recordings would be used against him, the idea of Starfleet Command watching them without Jim's acknowledgement disgusted him. Jim didn't consent to the filming. It would be a violation. "No."

"Then the only course of action was to destroy the videos. I will face any reprimand you deem fit."

Scotty raised his hand. "I also took part in this. I deserve the same reprimand."

What the hell did Jim do to get such loyal First Officers? "You know-"

Spock narrowed his eyes at Pike and asked, "What would you have done?"

Chris growled, fighting the urge to get to his feet at Spock's challenge. "You know what I would've done. I would've deleted them too."

"Then what's the issue?" Spock asked, standing incredibility stiff.

"I'm a goddamn Admiral. That's the difference. With my record, I can take the hit. Your career is already on thin ice after what happened on Nibiru."

"I only have my career because of Jim." Spock's spoke Jim's name with so much affection that Pike felt like he may get whiplash. "I will do anything to protect him. And as an Admiral, you have the ability to protect him in ways that neither Commander Scott nor I can. Your reputation must remain intact."

Spock might have a point, but Chris didn't have to like it. He hated it when Spock was smug. "Spock."

The Vulcan did not turn away from Pike's hot stare. "What done is done, Admiral."

For a few long moments, Pike just stared. "Okay." He took a deep breath. "But you can't leave me out of the loop again."

"I apologize. I will not do so in the future."

Chris' eye twitched, unsure if he could believe Spock. "Thanks." He paused. "Are you sure these videos don't exist elsewhere?"

"We cannot be sure if Seleen has copies, but Commander Scott and I were thorough." Spock replied.

"Shit," Pike cursed.

Spock did not look worried. "Considering Marcus had used them to blackmail Seleen—an action that Seleen would consider an atrocious act in and of itself- and he did not call his buff, I do not believe the Dalenien would reveal the existence of the recordings. I have read up on Dalenien culture and the damage it would cause if the recordings were revealed. He would face immense backlash that he would leave him with nothing."

"Good. That bastard deserves everything he gets."

"I agree, Sir."

"And what about Doctor Carol Wa- Marcus?" Pike hid his face in his hand and let out a pained huff. His stomach flipped thinking about all the ways this could turn How many people knew about Khan and Jim? Knew about the recording?

"Considering Doctor Marcus' new found relationship with Doctor McCoy, I believe we can trust her with the knowledge." Spock responded.

"How lucky we are that Carol Marcus fell for McCoy." Chris humorously joked as he leaned back in his desk chair.

"Very much so." Spock said, missing the joke.

"And Marcus is dead." Marcus' comments to Jim while on the Enterprise bridge could be explained away as him laying in the ground work to set Jim up. With Jim willing to give up his life for his ship, the crew could not see it as anything else.

"How do we know Khan won't be tell?" Scott interjected.

No one answered, but if Khan was going to tell, wouldn't he had done so already? While Khan teased Spock endlessly about it, command didn't get a hint of it from him. Pike had watched Khan's interviews, and though they asked him about Kirk, he didn't mention the relationship. He simply stated Marcus had planned to set Jim up for it. Pike didn't like the idea of banking Jim's future on Khan's ability to keep quiet, but that was where they were. "We don't."

"Should we speak to him?" Scotty asked.

Pike huffed as he folded his arm against his chest. "Khan is heavily guarded right now. We won't be getting a one-on-one conversion with the man." He doubted it would do any good to ask Khan to keep quiet as the augment would use it against them. "I doubt he's in a helpful mood."

Scotty puffed as he changed the subject. "How's the Captain?" he asked.

Clocking the stiff change in Spock's shoulder, Chris didn't answer. He didn't know how to. Didn't know if Jim could ever be okay after everything that he had been through. "He's Jim Kirk." He finally spoke. "He is never down for long."

"Can we see him, Sir?" Scotty asked, hopeful.

Spock glanced to Scotty before he laid his pleading eyes on Pike. "Jim had a rough mourning and isn't up for the company." He replied, not being completely dishonest.

"I had sensed your discomfort earlier when Mr. Scott asked if we could come in." Spock spoke. "That was because the Captain."

Chris exhaled softly. "His revival by Khan's blood would be one thing, but in additional to his memory loss, he's lost. Doctor Jones had asked that we limit visitors."

"I assume this list does not include me," Spock spoke, his voice gentler.

It was possible that only a fellow Vulcan could understand how deeply Spock loved Kirk. Chris could only judge by human standard, which wasn't up to the task. While Chris could understand and related to why someone could love Jim so deeply, he failed to understand why Spock couldn't move on. When Spock lost Jim's love, he was aimless, a colder version of an already stiff Vulcan, and at the slightest chance to be in Jim's obit, Spock lit up and regained his passion. A fire had been lit inside of him.

By human criteria, Spock seemed a little obsessive, which worried Pike, but if he listened to and observed his First Officer, he could empathize. Vulcans considered the bond, a bond Chris couldn't understand, between Jim and him as sacred, something to be protected. No one could be as in synced as they were. "Spock." Chris breathed through his nose. "This has nothing to do with that." That didn't need to be explained. "Doctor Jones just wants to trigger Jim's memory slowly as not to overwhelm him."

"That is understandable."

Chris exhaled, shooting him a skeptical look. "Listen, it isn't personal." He almost added that Jim called Spock 'That Vulcan,' not remembering his name.

"I did not think it was, Admiral." Spock replied, stiffly.

"He isn't saying he doesn't want to see you, Spock." Pike sighed, eyeing Scotty from the corner of his eye. He looked just as uncomfortable as Chris did. "His memories just aren't there. He doesn't remember you."

"But he remembers you, Admiral."

If Pike was standing, he might've fallen over by the intense wave of emotions that hit him. "Spock." He bit out.

"I understand, Admiral." Spock stressed.

As Pike stared at Spock, let it be known that he hated this. Hated how much everyone was suffering. Hated how everything have gone to hell. Spock, who had visited Jim daily while he was in the hospital, was unable to see him now to soothe the fears. Chris shared these fears, but he could see Jim. Could touch him. Could hug him. When he woke up after dreaming of Jim's cold body, he could call and hold him. When Jim woke up needing gentle touch, Chris was there. Spock could deny how much this separation disturbed him after witnessing Jim's death, but Chris knew.

*O*O*

Jim had been immensely proud of himself for not going downstairs when every fiber of him begged him to. He knew they were talking about him, his hearing better than anyone knew. No, he couldn't hear them across the house and behind multiple doors. From his location upstairs, he couldn't hear Pike's conversation word from word with the two Commanders. He caught a few whispers when they stood at the front door just before Pike invited them in. When Chris gazed over his shoulder, Jim thought he had been spotted, but when Pike looked away a second later, he knew he wasn't. He was able to duck out of the way.

Flattened against the wall, every muscle in his stilled body twitched. The thud of his heart echoed in his ear as he fought with himself. He had no idea why he was feeling like this. Why he wanted to sneak a peek at the Vulcan while not seeing him at the same time? With a few deep breaths, he forced himself to breathe. After he was sure the door to Pike's office/bedroom was closed, Jim, his chest tight, pushed of the wall and headed to the guest room. His nerves on fire, he, once in his room, turned on the music, putting it on louder than it needed to be.

Jim laid there on the most uncomfortable bed he had ever slept on and focused on the lyrics. He understood the concept of the uncomfortable guest bed: no one stays long on an uncomfortable bed. The theory wouldn't hold up with him as Jim only felt somewhat whole when he was with Chris. He would stay as long as that man would allow him, and considering he didn't see him being Captain again, he hoped Chris would be able to stand him for the foreseeable future.

*O*O*

A day passed before Jim worked up the courage and the will to get out of bed. The music still roared as he kicked his feet over the bed's edge. Elbow on his knees, he hid his face in his hands and huffed. He violently pushed back his duplicitous doubts, shoving back the pestering questions that hounded him. He focused on what Dr. Jones had told him: this wasn't a race. He didn't have to get over everything at once. It didn't make him weak to need time. It made him human and he was allowed to feel. "Computer, music off." He ordered.

When the music stopped, Jim straightened his clothes and got to his feet. Exhaling deeply, he stepped to the closed door. He stiffly lingered, his hands hovering over the handle. Jim, with a strained smile, enclosed the cold handle with his hand, twisted, and pushed. As soon as the door opened, two set of voices flooded Jim's ear: one male, one female. The voices were soft, and Jim doubted he would've been able to hear them if it wasn't for his new found abilities. He moaned, not wanting any unexpected visitors. "This is Chris' house. He can have people over." Jim chanted.

He recognized the soft, commanding tones of Admiral Pike, but the other, he couldn't place. There was something about it, but judging by the warm laughing tones, she was Chris' friend, not his. A weight was lifted off his chest. He could deal with Chris' friends. There was no expectation in their expression, no heated desire in their eyes.

Shaking his head, he headed down the hallway toward the voices. Whoever this woman was, Chris enjoyed her company. Jim smiled hearing how joyful his mentor/father sounded. This was teasing gold. He couldn't wait to see how red he could get Pike. As soon as he was halfway down the steps, Jim spotted the source of the laugher. Pike's head was thrown back, his eyes closed, as a roaring chuckle escaped his lips. Across the kitchen table sat the lady friend with an equally large smile. Pike's friend tugged at something in Jim's mind.

"Oh, hey!" She agreed when she noticed Jim on the steps.

Pike straightened himself, followed her glance and smiled. "Finally awake I see. I was wondering when you were going stop being a hormonal teenager."

"Chris," The woman chastised, slapping at his hand.

"What? Was he not hidden in his room for hours sulking?"

God, this was why Jim loved Pike, who didn't handle him like he was fragile and about to break

She laughed. "I think you have…" She paused, glancing up to the ceiling. "…22 years?" She sent a questioning look at Jim. "22 years to make up for."

"22 years?" Chris asked, his right eye brow raised.

"Yes, 22 Jim Kirk free years." She smiled. "He's just giving you the taste of his teenage years."

The bottom of the steps made an L shape, and Jim slowly traversed them, his eyes on the couple. "I don't recall much, but I kinda feel like I was horrible child." He answered. "Me sobbing in my room is a piece of cake."

"Oh, so you were sobbing?" Chris teased, though there was a hint of concern.

Jim rolled his eyes as he rounded the bottom step and headed toward the kitchen table. Besides a PADD, two coffee cups sat between them: one empty and one half full. "What did the Vulcan want?" he asked, changing the subject. While he wasn't sobbing, it was too close to the truth. He wasn't sure why he said sobbing.

The woman shot Pike, who met her stare, a puzzled look. He shook his head. "Not important," Chris replied.

"Chris," Jim demanded.

"Jim." Pike retorted, sternly. Their eyes drilled into the other, unblinking.

"Jim," the Lady interjected, feeling the heat rising in the room from the two men. With a big smile, she got to her feet. "Chris is useless-" -"Hey!" Chris yelled— "In the kitchen." She finished as she reached for both coffee cups. "Why don't you help me with breakfast?" She made her way to the sink and set the cups down gently.

"Oh? Will it be eligible?" Chris taunted.

The woman huffed as she turned and leaned back against the counter. Her arms folded against her chest, she spoke, "What's wrong with my cooking, Chris?" A silent warning was hidden in her words.

A playful scared look danced across Chris' face. "It's burns the tongue, Number One." The title just rolled off his tongue like an old habit.

"You can't call me that anymore." She humorously retorted. "For that, I'll make it extra spicy."

Pike turned his hoverchair, nailing her with a playful look. "If you can find it."

The woman, formerly known as Number One, skipped—yes, skipped—to her bag in the living room. Jim's eyes narrowed as she reached into her bag and pulled out an oversize bottle of Habanero sauce. Any negative mood that hung in Jim's chest disappeared when he noticed the stunned look on Pike's face. His jaw was almost on the floor, and Jim couldn't stop the chortle that exploded from his lips.

"Una, no. please no." Chris begged.

Said Woman snickered as she skipped back to the kitchen. "So, Jim? Want to help?"

Jim, a grin taking up half his face, sobered himself. "Sure."

Chris, utterly betrayed, turned back to Jim and glared. "I see how it is. I gave you my ship, a place to live. And this is how you repay me?"

Ghost images flashed before his blue eyes, too fast for Jim to make any sense of them. "All fair in love and war." His head begun to ache as the flashes began to take form. Most of them were just feelings but one stood out.

Chris Pike, decked in a gray and white uniform and a smile, glanced up from his wheelchair to Jim, who was decked out in a red uniform. A showy pinned metal hung on Jim's chest. "I relieve you, Sir."

"I am relieved."

"Jim?" Chris asked, noticing how rigid Jim had gotten. Una turned her attention to Jim, observing him.

Jim closed his eyes as this frosty phenomenon hit him. He wobbled on his feet, his breath disappearing. Suddenly, Jim felt presence next to him, hovering just a few feet next to him. "Jim?" Una inquired.

A small groan escaped from Jim's lips as he was forcefully thrown back into a memory, the scenery morphing and changing around. He was no longer in Pike's kitchen; instead, he was on a bridge. The Enterprise, his mind supplied. The white starkness of the wall was a harsh contrast to Pike's place. He almost got whip lash by the sudden, flashing screens, and it took a several seconds to convince himself not to empty his stomach.

Faceless—literally faceless—Officers sat at their stations on the bridge, chatting. A nonsense language filled the air, and Jim couldn't even begin to understand what any of the officers were saying. The faceless helm officer turned to Jim, but before the officer could speak, the doors to the turbolift opened and out came a lanky Vulcan.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain." The Vulcan asked. His words were surprising clear, and unlike the other officers, he had a face, and this face felt perfect for a reason that Jim couldn't explain. Maybe, it was the upswept brow when he looked at Jim?

Jim couldn't help by smile. "Permission granted."

With his hands folded behind his back, the Vulcan stepped off the lift. As Vulcans did not smile, he would deny any sort of pleasure or happiness on his face, but Jim could've sworn he saw a hint of smile. "As you have yet to select a first officer, respectfully I would like to submit my candidacy. Should you desire I can provide character references."

A familiar yet strange warmth bubbled in Jim's stomach, and while it scared him, he wanted to know more about Vulcan. Why did this very face erupt some passion in him? "Spo—"

"Jim!" A voice yelled. "Kid!"

Just as quickly as the Enterprise's bridge appeared, it disappeared, and Pike's kitchen reappeared, snapping back painfully. Chris, leaning forward in his hoverchair, was now directly in front of Jim, an alarm look plastered on his face. Una stood to his left, an equally concerned expression. Neither of them touched him, but they were close enough that they could reach a hand out.

"Where did you go?" Chris asked gently when he noticed Jim's eyes focusing and reached out to Jim before deciding against it. His hand hovered for a second before he lowered it.

Feeling trapped, Jim took a large, noticeable step back and forced himself to breathe. He could feel both of Chris and Una's shape eyes on him and felt naked under their intense stares. They wanted answers, but he had none to give, none he wanted to give. Heck, he didn't even know what happened. A part of him wondered if these were real memories or if these were images that his shattered memory was piecing together. Could they be real? Why was that Vulcan there?

Chris smiled weakly. "Jim. I'm right here. Not going anywhere."

Jim met Chris' stare, his heart pounding. "Thanks." He uttered softly. His fight melted under Pike's concern stare.

At hearing those fragile word, Chris finally reached forward and gently grabbed Jim's hand. "I got you."

While being aware of his strength, Jim squeezed. "Yea."

"Jim," Chris called, softly, as he gently rubbed the back of Jim's hand with his thumb. They stayed like that for a few minutes before he asked, "Where did you go?"

Focusing on the warmth radiating from Chris' gentle touch, Jim took a deep breath to slow his rapidly beating heart. After a few deep breaths, the world gradually returned to normal, and Jim's feet was back where they belonged. "The Enterprise." He answered. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell Pike about the images but lying never did any good.

Chris' expression changed slightly. "What did you remember?" he asked.

Jim shook his head as he took back his hand. "Weren't we making breakfast?" he asked, uninterested in going into detail about them. He would leave those to the in-depth emotional studies when he was with Dr. Jones.

"Jim."

"Chris," Una shot back, shaking her head at her former Captain. She turned back to Jim with a smile on her face that wasn't there a second ago. "Yes, Jim. Let's crack some eggs."

It wasn't the funny, but Una said it with such grin on her face and a cheer in her voice that Jim couldn't help but laugh. "Yea."

*O*O*

At some point, Una realized she never introduced herself to Jim, assuming that he knew who she was. She dropped everything—and Jim meant everything—and held out her sticky hand to him. "I'm Una, full name unimportant, Captain of the USS Firebird. Formerly Admiral Pike's First Officer, which is why he can't stop calling me Number One. He'll probably call me that until he dies." Her hand remained out even after Jim stared eyeballed it for 30 seconds.

When Una gave him a look that screamed 'I'm not removing my hand until you shake it' look, Jim took her it and shook. He fought back the flinch at the sticky coldness that bloomed from their joined hands. His hands were wet from the tomato he was cutting. "Jim Kirk, the wild spicy Captain of Enterprise." Something jerked inside at the ship's name, a feeling of wrongness flooded him. How could a name feel right and wrong at the same time?

Una laughed as she turned her attention back to the cracked eggs. She wasn't the cleanest cook, shells and yolk everywhere. "Spicy, I like it." She teased. They were making omelets.

She was cracking the eggs, while he was chopping up the ingredients. Jim wasn't any better at keeping a clean station as pieces of onions, tomatoes, and ham were everywhere, including the floor. Jim cocked his head to a side. "Come to think of it. I don't think Starfleet will like if we refer to people as spicy."

"Nah," She smiled. "I think if we call people spicy, the universe would be a better place."

Jim snorted as he envisioned calling that Vulcan from earlier spicy. Calling any Vulcan spicy would be interesting. "You should test that on some Vulcans," he smiled as he brought down the knife on the tomato. "Or some Klingons."

Una paused as she cracked another egg. "Hmm," She hummed. "Klingons will probably think we want to eat them if we called them spicy. I don't know how that will help relations."

"Yea, probably wouldn't be wise."

Being with Una, Jim felt normal, and he hadn't realized how much he needed that until now. Pike's kitchen might not be unscathed by the end of this, but Jim was feeling better with each second. So much so that Jim threw a few pieces of his scrapes at her. If he received some egg shells in the face in return, it was okay. That was what showers were for.

*O*O*

Pike eyed the omelet that Una placed in front of him. He glanced up, narrowing his eyes at the egg and vegetable covered Captains in front of him, and picked up a knife. "You got more eggs on yourselves than on the plate." His eyes still on them, he cut a small piece and lowered the knife. "I would think Captains would know how not to start a food fight."

"Just because we are Captains doesn't mean we can't have fun." Una refuted, as she reached over to Jim's head and pulled a large egg shell out of his hair. Jim watched her as she tossed it on the table.

With more force than necessary, Pike stabbed the cut piece of omelet, his fork scrapping the bottom of the plate. He stared at the golden egg on his fork for a second before hesitantly stuffing it into his mouth. He chewed it ever so slowly.

Jim snorted as he puck the onion entangled in her hair just above her shoulder and flickered it on the floor. "He acts like we poisoned it."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Una replied, looking slightly sheepish. "Or the second."

Jim's eyes drilled into the side of Una's head before dropping down to the omelet on his plate. Having helped Una, the omelets couldn't have turned out too bad, but that counted on him being an okay cook. He wasn't the best cook; yet he knew enough to know how to cook without poisoning himself. "How… How many…" he started before stopping himself. "Do I even want to know?"

Una, smiling, shook her head for an answer. Pike let out a sigh as he lowered the fork. "Not as many times as you're thinking, Son." A sudden smile grew on his face, recalling a pleasant memory. "This isn't bad either."

"Oh, it isn't?" Una grinned as she leaned back in the chair.

"I half expected my tongue to burn off."

Jim didn't miss the fond look that passed between Una and Chris, a look that left him feeling somewhat empty. He wasn't quite sure what he was messing, but his heart clinched.

Una reached over, grabbed Jim by the shoulder and squeezed. "This young man wouldn't let me."

Chris gave Jim a huge grin. "We know who his favorite is."

"Well," Una grinned back. "I would sure hope so." Her hand dropped from Jim's shoulder.

Jim puked at the odd feeling that bubbled in his chest, a sensation that he couldn't place. For some odd reason, there was a hint of panic in his chest. He had no idea why he was feeling so panicked, but his emotions never did hit him at the most convenient times. Tired of his ragging emotions, he turned his attention to his omelet and picked up his knife and fork again. Una and Chris chatted away unaware of his emotional state, as Jim cut into omelet. Every so often, Jim would look up from his food and watch them. Whatever it was between them, it was more than former Captain and Former First Officer vibes.

Minutes passed before Chris noticed Jim wasn't paying attention and called his name. "Jim."

"Yea?" Jim uttered, glancing up from his plate.

Chris gave him an inquisitive look. "I've to leave in an hour. I got physical therapy, which means-"

"I'm fine alone," Jim grumbled. "And didn't you have therapy yesterday?"

"Yes," Pike sighed, a bit conflicted.

"Do you normally have back-to-back?"

"Not all the time, just when I need it."

Jim's eyes dropped to Pike's hoverchair, feeling ashamed. "Do you want company?" he asked, as he pushed the food around on his plate.

Pike's mood suddenly changed, his face hardening. "No. I need to do this on my own."

Jim leaned forward on his chair, ready to fight for a couple of reasons. He got itchy when Pike was out of his sight. In additional to that, he could hear the pounding in Pike's chest. He wasn't quite sure what it meant, but something was off, and Jim wasn't a fan of Pike keeping things from him. "Okay."

Una leaned toward Jim, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "On the plus side, we get to spend the day together."

There was something cheap about the way these two were suddenly acting that rubbed Jim the wrong way. They were up to something, but he had no evidence to back it up. "Okay," he repeated. Whatever Chris was planning, Jim wasn't involved.

The end for now

1) I am not sure how wheelchairs work in the future. In my head, I see hoverchair instead of wheelchairs, but i have no idea if a hoverchair could make it up the stairs. I would suppose it would silly if they couldn't, but the ones Pike currently can not.

2) As I wrote the kitchen scene, I couldn't help but wonder if Vegans and vegetarians existed in the future. Hear me out. In the Star Trek TNG, they kept talking about how they no longer keep animals for food as they had replicators, which is a matter-energy conversion and create any food they need. So none of the 'meats' are really meats. Does that mean Vulcans can eat chicken from a replicators as it isn't from an animal? I pondered while I wrote Una and Jim was cooking.

Until next time. Please let me know what you think.