Jim doesn't pack much. It seems wrong to take anything that's not solely his. He's taken everything else from Leonard the least he can do is leave the physical remnants of their life together; to destroy or put in storage, is up to Leonard. Selfishly, Jim hopes he keeps the things they've accumulated together, treasures them the way Jim wants to, but he understands if Leonard's hate forces him to get rid of them. Jocelyn took everything from Leonard and Jim's not so much of a bastard he'd do the same. Jim has no place to take any of their belongings anyways; Leonard is home and he just ceremoniously severed that tie completely.
He catches the first shuttle out of Vancouver and heads to the last place he ever wanted to return. The smell of fresh air, wet dirt and uniquely Riverside, hits him as the cab drops him off without pomp and circumstance at the end of the long dirt driveway. It takes Jim about twenty minutes to hobble to the house but when he finally gets there, Winona is standing on the porch waiting to take his bags.
"It's for the best, Jim," she says in a reserved melancholy tone that Jim appreciates as he dejectedly walks into the old farmhouse. Her hand brushes his as he passes in some bid for maternal contact to ease her son's obvious suffering. A broken heart is hard to piece back together.
The house looks exactly as he remembers it. It never changes. Jim hasn't been home since the thanksgiving he brought Leonard home to introduce him as his husband after he was released from the hospital. Before that, the last time he darkened these doors was when he was sleeping off his hangover before meeting the shuttle to take him to the academy. Winona is here even less, leaving the house to sit as a shrine to days gone by. Like most of Jim's childhood, she spends her time off world on assignment. Jim hasn't decided if it's sheer audacity on the universes part or an olive branch that his mother happens to be home now.
She's always been nice to Leonard when he's in her presence but has often imparted to Jim that she believed Leonard wasn't right for him. Jim suspects there's an 'I told you so' awaiting him. It will have to wait for another day; he's not in the mood to hear his mother was right about his relationship.
Jim stops in front of the mantel above the fireplace. Adorning it is the only Kirk family picture in existence. The happy couple- George and Winona, smiling and holding hands, with a young Sam hoisted high on his father's shoulders giggling while George places a safe and protective hand over Winona's extended belly. Jim's always been jealous of that picture. Everyone's perfect and happy in it and Jim's still two months away from actually being visible in it.
The picture is nothing more than a false promise. The Kirk's never turned into that happy family and Jim's realizing that he's never even going to get close to having a photo like that. Sam who's the spitting image of their mother, and left home the first chance he could, has ended up turning out like their father- with a wife, kids, and a home. Jim who looks to be every inch his father, is in fact his mother, a coward running away from love with a string of one night stands; sentenced to spend the rest of their existences alone, longing for a love they couldn't keep. There will be no portrait of him and Leonard with a pig-tailed Joanna adorning his living room walls.
Jim stops at the liquor cabinet, before heading up the stairs to his bedroom.
The sound of cows ambling through the field wakes him from his dead cold sleep; drool crusting along his bottom lip and left cheek. His mouth's dry and tastes of something awful. It takes him a moment to realize he's alone in his small single bed; the loneliness swift to climb in and tangle itself with Jim's being.
He struggles down the stairs, stiff and sore but driven to find the source of the delicious aroma creeping around the old farmhouse like a ghost.
"Good afternoon," greets Winona, pulling a pot off the stove.
"Afternoon?" asks Jim, yawning. He doesn't even remember going to sleep last night or anything beyond the burn of bourbon. Bourbon's not his go to drink of choice, but it seemed fitting last night.
He heads to the fridge, reaching up to the cabinet above and pulling out a bottle of vodka- that's more like it. He can feel Winona's eyes on him as he fills a glass and takes the bottle with him to the table.
"I made you something to eat," she says, setting a plate down in front of him.
It actually looks edible. From what Jim can remember, his mother's cooking skills were not dissimilar to his own nonexistent food preparation talent. He takes as long drink before his first mouthful. If it's too horrible, the alcohol will help mask the taste.
Winona sits down across from him, intently watching his first bite.
"It's good," says Jim around a second mouthful.
Winona says, "Good," with a smile before frowning and chastising, "it's a little early for that isn't it?" She nods towards the bottle.
Jim shrugs. "It's afternoon." It's not like he has anywhere to be or anything to do. "Where'd you learn to cook?"
"Jeff taught me a few dishes. Eating the same replicated mush everyday was getting boring."
"Jeff?" asks Jim. That's a new one. The last he heard she was involved with some guy named Co-mel on the research station around Jupiter.
"It doesn't matter," says Winona getting up from the table. "If you're staying here there are chores that have to be done.
"Right," says Jim with a sad smile as she walks away. He finishes his lunch and takes the bottle to aid him while feeding chickens and chopping firewood.
"It's getting cold," says Winona sitting down in the hay next to Jim in the loft. She hands him a jacket.
Jim takes it but throws it to the side. He's been out here every night for the last few months, if the night air hasn't killed him yet, it's not going to. He can't feel the cold right now anyways; he's made his way through the vodka and is working on the whisky. They sit in silence staring at the large full moon through the open hay door. Jim's spent many nights as a kid up here, watching the night sky, dreaming of being out there. Who would have thought he'd be here again wishing for the same thing? Somehow the universe feels emptier than it used to, even though Jim's been out and seen that it's anything but empty.
"Happiness isn't at the bottom of that bottle," says Winona when Jim's three quarters through.
Jim mutters, "Might be at the bottom of the next one." Whisky brought a few of its closest friends to the party in what's a clean break from the liquor cabinet. Jim'll restock it in the morning- again.
"My poor baby," she soothes, brushing his shaggy bangs away from his forehead. Her brow furrows and lips tighten as the vicious scar marring his face catches the moonlight. "He was always going to leave."
Jim rolls his eyes irritated. Why can't his mother see how amazing Leonard is? "I left him," corrects Jim sternly.
"Still for the best," says Winona looking longingly at the sky. "They all leave you in the end, one way or another."
"You're horrible at pep talks." Jim takes another swig.
"He didn't fight for you," she says, rather indignant on his behalf.
Jim goes really still, the familiar hot burn of tears returning. Quietly he says, "He did." It's important that the world knows that. Leonard McCoy does not throw in the towel willingly. "He was just willing to walk away because he wants great things for me and I told him he wasn't it." There's a bitterness in his voice. Why couldn't Leonard be as selfish as Jim and refuse to let go?
"There are no fairytale endings in life, Jim. No matter how much we want or need them."
That resonates with Jim. For one brief and shining moment he had it all and just as fast as the stars aligned, the universe snatched them away. For the first time, he has an inkling as to what makes his mother tick. "Why didn't it work out with Pike? Or any of them?" Mostly he wants to know drove her and Pike apart. Pike was the one he was secretly routing for. Pike showed up when most didn't and stuck around way longer than any other man Winona brought around. Pike is the only glimmer of a father he's ever known. Even if there was some flaw in the Winona-Christopher match, surely Winona could have made it work with someone.
Winona grabs the bottle out of Jim's hand and downs the rest herself. After a moment she says sadly, "Love isn't always enough. I spent most of my relationships looking for George. I would date this one because he had your father's eyes or that one because the touch of his hand felt like George. Those relationships weren't based on anything real, only the desperate need to chase a ghost. Christopher was the first time I couldn't see some piece of George."
"So what went wrong?" he asks intrigued.
"Me," she says simply. I kept him distant because I didn't want to confuse you kids. I didn't want anyone to replace George. And then I was worried what everyone else would think. George was only gone four years and I was involved with his best friend. Then I realized I was depriving you boys of something wonderful. And Chris was wonderful. He was teaching you to ride your bike in the driveway over there and I realized I loved him and he loved you boys."
"I remember that." Jim remembers it fondly; the feel of the wind in his hair as he sped down the driveway to the cheers of Pike and Sam. It was his first taste of freedom and he loved it. Afterwards they had fresh blueberry pie that Winona had picked up from the market that morning.
"I got scared. I'd become too familiar with who I was that I didn't know how to work someone else into that and not lose myself. Losing your father had become a deep familiar ache I wasn't ready to lose and I was afraid I'd forget what it was like to love and be loved by George Kirk if I let myself love Chris completely."
Jim reaches out and takes her hand. What a pair they make. He sees his future and doesn't like it. Sure different bed fellows will get him through the years but clearly the ache for Leonard is never going to disappear. Worse, he's seen what loving his mother has done to Pike. Jim can't bear the thought of Leonard not knowing love again. Leonard should know love, he deserves love. Leonard will never find it with Jim in the world.
"Don't stay up too late," says Winona as she heads to bed.
Jim nods. "I won't." He'll blackout in an hour or so anyways.
When morning finally comes, Jim's packed his few belongings and strapped them to the back of his bike. He's determined to burn the memory of Leonard and everything he's lost out of his brain and he can't do that here where ghosts lurk in every corner. There's a bar across the state line where the alcohol is way over proof, no questions are asked and a fight's waiting around every corner. If that one doesn't work there's a couple more down the road that should do the trick.
The phaser blast is unmistakable and inescapable. It comes across the comm. in a resounding shockwave that sucks everything out of the universe, leaving Jim cold and empty. He slumps against the side of the Jefferies tube, his limbs uncoordinated noodles. His grief and disbelief bubble up in a wretched howl that tears its way from his very soul as it withers and dies, echoing down the tubes like an oncoming bullet train. "Bones."
Everything stops and ceases to exist. Jim's convinced he's dead, stuck in some hellish purgatory that will never end for crimes he can't begin to account for. He wants to retreat into some memory, anyone that has Leonard in it, even the horrible ones. It could be Nero or any fucked up mistake Jim's made in his life, so long as Leonard's there. He scrunches his eyes shut and waits to get swept away in the flashbacks that have crippled his life. Traitorous bastards! The one time he wants to escape reality is the only time he has an unwavering and firm grip on it.
Tears pool and burn his eyes but they do not fall. Even his tears are lost too, now that Leonard's not in the world. Jim's prepared to lay down and die here, to wait until death's cold hands see fit to unite him with the one person that truly mattered to him. His rotting corpse will be one last fuck you to Harrison and his people as they try to find what's stinking up their new ship in a couple of weeks. It's a morose thought, but Jim can't help but take joy in it. He doesn't have anything else left now.
Harrison taking the ship means a lot of other people are going to die and even more are going to feel the way Jim does now- people like his and Leonard's friends.
As much as Jim wants to give up, he can't leave them to share Leonard's fate. His grief and despair turn to fury and rage like a lightning bolt splitting a tree. Harrison's done what Nero could only dream- he's taken everything away from Jim. Jim's going to make that son of a bitch pay.
Jim gets back on his hands and knees, his shoulder and leg crying out against such use. He carries on his trek towards the cargo bay- driven and relentless. His life has a singular focus now. He'll avenge Leonard or die trying.
The Jefferies tube fills with the constant hiss of something being pumped through the ventilation system. Jim hangs his head in defeat. Harrison is gassing the crew so he can take the ship without firing a shot.
… with firing only one shot.
Jim moves faster, trying in vain to out run this invisible enemy. If he can make it to the next control junction perhaps he can seal himself on this segment and purge the gas. Hand over hand he goes, holding nothing back.
His throat stats to hurt the same time his muscles start to fatigue. The sharp granular feeling gets worse with each breath he takes making his body shake with wrecked coughs. The junction is in sight, but he feels like he's swimming in molasses. His arms and legs are heavy, too heavy to move despite his best efforts. Jim can't seem to catch his breath.
He sprawls out on the cold metal surface of the Jefferies tube, his body still convinced it's making progress towards its goal, even though Jim can barely twitch a finger. So close, but so far, he thinks bitterly as his eyes grow heavy. He couldn't protect the man he loves and now he can't even attempt to go out in a blaze of vengeance fuelled glory.
"I'm sorry," he whispers into the lonely emptiness as he succumbs to the gas. If there's any kind of a god in this universe, he'll show mercy and Jim will never wake up in this Leonard-less world.
Jim storms into their dorm room looking pissy and clearly hating the universe. He throws his reading materials and assignments on the bed violently before pacing from his bed to their small kitchen nook like he's not sure where he wants to implode.
Leonard peers over the top of his PADD. He needs to study for his diplomacy class, not get sucked onto whatever this drama is. Jim's the sun, and Leonard would gladly bask in that beautiful light but he promised himself he wasn't going to get burned again. He got too close last month and he's still sporting a horrible sunburn. Jim's failed second attempt at the Kobayashi Maru lead the pair to a seedy bar in the heart of the city, the kind of bar only Jim can sniff out. The alcohol flowed fast and furious and at some point just before dawn when Leonard was picking Jim up off the floor, Jim leaned in for a kiss. God help Leonard, but he almost went for it. It would have been so easy to just lean in and give into the desperate needy ache he's been trying to ignore for the last year.
Jim's never been overly discerning when it comes to sexual partners and he was drunk enough that Leonard's pretty sure he wouldn't have protested that night but come the light of day Leonard knows it would irreparably change things between them. Leonard would be the love sick fool and Jim would carry on as though it meant nothing, until he noticed how hung up and infatuated Leonard was. The distance would start, half baked excuses on Jim's part to do things without Leonard until they were no longer in each other's orbits. Or worse, Jim would notice and string Leonard along for all those nights Jim didn't want to sleep alone and nothing more.
Jim's not bashful, if he felt anything for Leonard besides friendship he would have said something by now. He hasn't- so Leonard can only conclude the most he'll get from Jim is friendship, and that'll be enough. But he can't lose that friendship for one moment of bliss and so, Leonard's promised himself to create a safe distance, one he can't drunken or desperately stumble across.
It starts with not getting sucked into this, he tells himself, as he watches Jim pace like a cat in heat and steadfastly ignores the sexy pout Jim has when he's turning things over in his head that piss him off.
Jim keeps putting in laps, testing the structural integrity of the dorm's flooring. The tiles in the kitchen area are already showing slight grooves from the path Jim usual paces. Normally Leonard would have said something by now, the pacing usually drives him mad, but he's been acting strange the last couple of weeks. Jim would contemplate that odd turn but he's trying to work off the energy of his latest idea. He unzips his jacket and tosses it towards his bed as he circles around again. The toss is a little premature, his jacket landing on Leonard's bed or more specifically, Leonard's legs.
"I thought you were studying with Gaila tonight?" grumbles Leonard, and he uses the term study pretty loosely. He doesn't think either one of them has even attempted to study anything together except anatomy.
"I was going to, but then I started thinking…"
"Oh lord."
Jim frowns. His ideas aren't that bad. For someone who goes along with all of his plans, Leonard sure complains a lot the whole time. "I want to try the Kobayashi Maru again."
There's something about hearing that word that makes Leonard twitch. It's a part of the command track requirements and every cadet leaves shaken but it hit Jim incredibly hard. Leonard spent three days putting the kid back together after that. Then the dumb son of a bitch decided to do it again! Leonard's not sure he can continue to keep stitching this particular would closed. He's not sure why Jim's so hungry to put himself through that again either. He slams his PADD down on the bedside table. Most people are smart enough not to stick a fork in an electric socket a second time- not Jim. It pisses Leonard off. "Are you allergic to doing the smart thing?" demands Leonard, irritation crawling all over him like ants.
"It doesn't bother you that nobody beats it?" counters Jim, confused as to why Leonard gets so bent out of shape about it.
"You can't cheat death, Jim. That's the point of your stupid test," snaps Leonard, throwing Jim's jacket back at him.
Jim catches it just before it hits him in the face. "Says the guy that cheats death for a living."
Leonard holds his finger up. "That's different. I don't cheat death, I just hold it off. Everyone I save will eventually die some day. I know that. Do you know that you may have to give a command that sends someone to their death? That there are days ships don't come home?"
"Of course I do!" shouts Jim. He's well aware of what is expected and required of him to sit in that chair. But planning for failure is accepting failure in his book. Shouldn't he strive to bring everyone home every time? There's always a solution if you look hard enough. That should be the point of the test.
Leonard picks his PADD back up. He's not in the mood for this particular fight. "Commander Milling stopped by," informs Leonard, going back to his reading.
An officer looking for Jim is rarely a good thing, especially Millings who seems to have made it his career goal to get Jim to wash out of the academy. What else could go wrong today? "What did he want?" snaps Jim.
"Don't shoot the messenger," grumbles Leonard.
"You learn that in your diplomacy book?" spits Jim.
"Yep," replies Leonard, unfazed by Jim's anger targeting him. "Right here on page three-thirteen." He reaches over to grab the PADD left by Millings and tosses it in Jim's general direction.
Jim catches it easily, letting his jacket fall to the floor.
Leonard watches as Jim scrolls through it, waiting for the moment Jim gets to the important part.
"Huh," says Jim casually, sauntering over to his bed and flopping down.
"What is it?" ask Leonard, still pretending to read his PADD.
"I was accepted for the last command track field experience spot on the Troubadour." There's a bit of wonder in Jim's voice, like a child going for their first shuttle ride. Silence fills the dorm room as Jim stares at the PADD like he's waiting for it to change to a denial letter.
Leonard vaguely remembers Jim prattling on about applying for the Troubadour practicum. It was some whim that Jim was planning, mostly because the blond that sat three rows in front of them in cartography class was excited about it and planning on going, and wouldn't give Jim the time of day until Jim said he was applying too. Jim wouldn't need to go to space to get into her pants, that conquest happened a week later, but oddly Jim didn't withdraw his application.
Leonard isn't as surprised as Jim is that he got the spot, but now Leonard's looking at potentially spending the next three months Jim-less. It's the distance he probably needs to get his head back on straight but there's still a bitter ache at the thought of Jim happily traipsing off without him. "Shouldn't you be more excited?" huffs Leonard. He might not be thrilled at the thought of Jim going out there alone, but Jim should be ecstatic. "I thought all you command kids wanted actual experience?"
Jim does. He wants his turn at that chair as soon as possible but it falls during the same time he's booked in to try his hand at the Kobayashi Maru again. That test is an itch buried beneath his skin and the more he scratches, the deeper it goes. "It's the same time as the Kobayashi Maru."
There's that word again. Leonard clenches his teeth.
"I want to take the test again, but I want this spot on the Troubadour too. I think I want to re-take the test more." Jim loves a good fight but he hates to lose. Losing to a test hurts even more. Plus there are other reasons to not want to leave for three months. "What do you think I should do?"
Leonard's not going to get invested, he's absolutely not, he reminds himself. He's tired of getting hung up on people that will never feel for him the way he feels for them. He was far more invested in Jocelyn than she ever was in him. Of course Leonard selfishly wants him to stay, but not to take a test Jim won't pass in the way he wants. How is Leonard supposed to ask Jim to stay so he can pine quietly in a corner over Jim. He should tell Jim to go.
Leonard puts his PADD back on the bedside table. He's not going to get any studying done tonight. "I think you should pick your socks up," snaps Leonard rolling over to face the wall.
Jim screws up his face. "You mean get my shit together?" Jim's not the hot train wreck he once was. He's not as together as some as his cohorts, but he's no longer a disaster in progress.
"No. I mean literally start picking up your socks. They're everywhere!" lectures Leonard. "As a concept, it's not that hard. Even you should be able to wrap your head around it.
"They're not everywhere," protests Jim, looking around the room at the few spots currently occupied with his socks. He'll grab the pair off the window sill when Leonard's asleep. Clearly Leonard's in a mood about something and Jim doubts it's just about his ability to distribute socks throughout their dorm. In fact, things have been off for awhile. Leonard obviously needs a vacation or to get laid- probably both. Jim's more than willing to help with the latter but every time he even hints at it, Leonard gets all squirrely and snarly, which is fine, because Jim has a good imagination to hold him over. A very good imagination.
Leonard reaches under his bed and grabs a pair of rolled up socks, throwing them at Jim. "I found these in the replicator. How do socks even get there?" asks Leonard, perplexed. He quickly changes his mind as wild scenarios fill his head. "No, I don't want to know."
"You're cranky," huffs Jim, flopping back on his pillow for dramatic effect.
"Dimwitted man-children make me cranky," counters Leonard, looking subtly over his shoulder to admire Jim's long lean form like it's the last time he's going to see it. "You should take the spot on the Troubadour," he says quietly, "it a great opportunity." He honestly doesn't know what he's going to do without Jim around. Selfishly, he wants to hold onto Jim and never let go, but that would be like keeping a bird in a cage. Sure, the bird would eventually be happy with a home and a guaranteed meal but it would still long to fly. Leonard wants to be more than settled for, he wants to be the thing longed for more than the sky.
Maybe Leonard's right. This is an amazing opportunity and the Kobayashi Maru will be waiting when he gets back. So why isn't he jumping at the chance? Jim's head lolls to the side so he's looking at Leonard's back as the cranky doctor feigns sleep. There's more to stay here for than just proving Starfleet wrong and beating their stupid test.
Jim's eyes widen. He can have the best of both worlds. "Come with me," begs Jim excitedly. "I know there's still a few medical spots left."
Yes, because that's what Leonard needs, to pine for Jim in a different location. Leonard turns over in a huff. "I'm fine, right where I am," he protests.
"You need a vacation," counters Jim, adding under his breath, "and a good roll in the hay."
"What was that?" snaps Leonard with a scowl. "The last thing I need is to be playing nurse maid, picking up your discarded clothes in a cabin on a starship."
"You said it yourself, it's a great opportunity," sings Jim, giving Leonard his best puppy dog eyes. It will be fun, the two of them running amuck on a ship. It will be great practice for the day Jim gets his own command. "Please."
How is Leonard supposed to say no to that look? "Guess I can't leave you all sad and pathetic lookin'. I'll put in an application tomorrow. But you owe me." Leonard's weak. He always has been as far as Jim's concerned.