Author's Notes: Why is no one reading this anymore? *pouts* Am I really that bad of a writer? Or is it the fact that I won't accept unsigned reviews? Hmm...most illogical...
Chapter Nine - I've Always Known...
Kirk saw his life flash before his eyes as the rocky face of El Capitan blurred. He knew he was falling, but oddly he felt no fear. That made no sense, but he didn't have time to think about it as he braced for impact. There was an odd black-and-white blur moving to intercept him...
And suddenly his fall stopped, nearly tearing his leg off as a hand grabbed his ankle. His arms flailed wildly for a moment as he contemplated the ground, which was now about an inch from his nose, and he finally glanced in the direction he supposed was up. Spock floated there on his hoverboots, strong hands on Kirk's ankle.
"Greetings Admiral," Spock said. "It appears you have fallen from the mountain. Do you require further assistance?"
"Uh...no, I'm fine," Kirk said, hearing someone running up to meet him. He twisted around in Spock's grip, still upside-down, and watched McCoy run up with a fearful expression on his face. "Hi Bones!" Kirk called, waving. "Mind if we drop in for dinner?" He laughed shakily, and Spock finally lowered him the rest of the way to the ground. He tried to stand, then figured out the hard way that Spock's impromptu rescue had sprained his ankle. "Ouch."
McCoy was already examining Kirk's injured ankle. "I suppose you should consider yourself lucky this was all that happened," he grumbled. "If Spock didn't have those hoverboots, you'd be dead by now."
"Thank you Bones, but I figured out that one on my own."
Spock switched off his rockets and landed gracefully on the dirt. "Admiral, I believe that you should not climb mountains without safety equipment. If not for my intervention, you would not be alive."
Kirk sighed and rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Mister Spock." He accepted McCoy's steadying arm as he stood up, and the trio began the slow walk to their campsite.
~~~~~~
Later that night, as they sat around the campfire, McCoy turned to Kirk. "Well, Admiral, it seems you've escaped death yet again. You know, maybe you'd live longer if you didn't insist on risking your life five times a week."
Kirk laughed. "What else is Starfleet for?" he asked idly, holding an ice pack on his sore ankle. McCoy hadn't brought any medical equipment with him, so his ankle would have to wait until their shuttle would come to pick them up the next day. Over and over, McCoy had cursed whatever had gotten into him to leave his medical stuff back at the hotel.
"You really should have been killed today," McCoy stressed the point. "It was only some damn fine luck that Spock and I were nearby."
"Not luck," Kirk said, humorous mood fading. He stared into the fire, trying to clear those dark thoughts from his mind. McCoy and Spock took note of his sudden silence.
"Admiral?" Spock asked. "Are you all right?"
"I knew I wouldn't die today," Kirk said at last, "because the two of you were with me. You see...I've always known that I'll die alone."
McCoy and Spock exchanged a puzzled glance. "Jim..." McCoy began. "Why do you...I mean, when you died on the Enterprise..." He stuttered and eventually stopped babbling, waiting for Kirk to explain.
"I can't explain it," Kirk said slowly. "I've just...always known that. Someone once told me..." He shook his head. "I don't know. Just forget it."
"I wish we could, Jim."
The ensuing silence was rather awkward, and it lasted for several minutes. Finally Kirk stood up. "I'm going to get some sleep. We can talk in the morning."
"All right. It's getting late anyway, we should turn in too," McCoy said.
The three spread out their blankets around the fire, and within minutes they were all asleep. And so, no one saw the white-robed form watching from the trees.
Chapter Nine - I've Always Known...
Kirk saw his life flash before his eyes as the rocky face of El Capitan blurred. He knew he was falling, but oddly he felt no fear. That made no sense, but he didn't have time to think about it as he braced for impact. There was an odd black-and-white blur moving to intercept him...
And suddenly his fall stopped, nearly tearing his leg off as a hand grabbed his ankle. His arms flailed wildly for a moment as he contemplated the ground, which was now about an inch from his nose, and he finally glanced in the direction he supposed was up. Spock floated there on his hoverboots, strong hands on Kirk's ankle.
"Greetings Admiral," Spock said. "It appears you have fallen from the mountain. Do you require further assistance?"
"Uh...no, I'm fine," Kirk said, hearing someone running up to meet him. He twisted around in Spock's grip, still upside-down, and watched McCoy run up with a fearful expression on his face. "Hi Bones!" Kirk called, waving. "Mind if we drop in for dinner?" He laughed shakily, and Spock finally lowered him the rest of the way to the ground. He tried to stand, then figured out the hard way that Spock's impromptu rescue had sprained his ankle. "Ouch."
McCoy was already examining Kirk's injured ankle. "I suppose you should consider yourself lucky this was all that happened," he grumbled. "If Spock didn't have those hoverboots, you'd be dead by now."
"Thank you Bones, but I figured out that one on my own."
Spock switched off his rockets and landed gracefully on the dirt. "Admiral, I believe that you should not climb mountains without safety equipment. If not for my intervention, you would not be alive."
Kirk sighed and rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Mister Spock." He accepted McCoy's steadying arm as he stood up, and the trio began the slow walk to their campsite.
~~~~~~
Later that night, as they sat around the campfire, McCoy turned to Kirk. "Well, Admiral, it seems you've escaped death yet again. You know, maybe you'd live longer if you didn't insist on risking your life five times a week."
Kirk laughed. "What else is Starfleet for?" he asked idly, holding an ice pack on his sore ankle. McCoy hadn't brought any medical equipment with him, so his ankle would have to wait until their shuttle would come to pick them up the next day. Over and over, McCoy had cursed whatever had gotten into him to leave his medical stuff back at the hotel.
"You really should have been killed today," McCoy stressed the point. "It was only some damn fine luck that Spock and I were nearby."
"Not luck," Kirk said, humorous mood fading. He stared into the fire, trying to clear those dark thoughts from his mind. McCoy and Spock took note of his sudden silence.
"Admiral?" Spock asked. "Are you all right?"
"I knew I wouldn't die today," Kirk said at last, "because the two of you were with me. You see...I've always known that I'll die alone."
McCoy and Spock exchanged a puzzled glance. "Jim..." McCoy began. "Why do you...I mean, when you died on the Enterprise..." He stuttered and eventually stopped babbling, waiting for Kirk to explain.
"I can't explain it," Kirk said slowly. "I've just...always known that. Someone once told me..." He shook his head. "I don't know. Just forget it."
"I wish we could, Jim."
The ensuing silence was rather awkward, and it lasted for several minutes. Finally Kirk stood up. "I'm going to get some sleep. We can talk in the morning."
"All right. It's getting late anyway, we should turn in too," McCoy said.
The three spread out their blankets around the fire, and within minutes they were all asleep. And so, no one saw the white-robed form watching from the trees.