Chapter 16
Never Alone
Jim woke up feeling unbearably sick with nausea that worsened with each moment that he was awake. He felt like he had been pummeled by a Klingon while being horribly hung-over at the same time. There was a constant throbbing in his body – a dull ache that would just not go away – that made him feel as though he had been struck down by the most godawful flu ever.
Rolling over onto his side and half on his stomach, Jim couldn't stifle the groan that the movement elicited from him. Instantly, there was a soothing hand rubbing the space between his shoulder blades. He peeled open one eye to see Bones hovering over him. And no Thea, surprisingly. There was a pang of a sorrow brought about from missing her, but Jim ruthlessly shoved it down, knowing full well that it was illogical of him to miss a hallucination.
He squinted up at Bones and he felt his stomach churn uneasily again. Judging by the dark bags under Bones' eyes and the tight lines on his friend's face, he was pretty sure that he had almost died again. The last time Jim had seen Bones so haggard and so utterly terrified for Jim was when he had actually died in Bones' arms.
"Hey…" Jim croaked out.
"Hey yourself," Bones replied softly as he reached out to grab onto Jim's hand like it was his last line. "How are you feeling?"
Jim couldn't even find it in himself to lie. "Like shit. What happened?"
At that, Bones' brow furrowed. "I don't actually know. You were only outside for barely a minute before I found you, and you were already throwing up blood. But my examination didn't reveal intestinal bleeds or any other causes of a bleed. Not to mention that wound on your chest? It's not healing like it should. It's gotta be something to do with the Goddess' magic." He paused, looking down. "I don't know what else to do, Jim. It was another close call, Jim. You lost a lot of blood. You've been out for more than a whole day."
Jim knew he probably should be curious about what had actually happened to him and why his body failed the way it did, but for some odd reason, he just didn't care right now. There was too much numbness within him to really think past what consequences his words to the Admirals had brought about. Logically, he knew that he was in deep trouble and what he had said wasn't going to help him in the least, but he didn't regret a single word.
Tarsus would never happen again. That was what Jim swore all those years ago and again when he gained Captaincy of the Enterprise. Because he wasn't naïve enough to believe in the good of humanity when he had seen the worst of them. Hell, he had lived and been the worst of them. But he also knew that history always repeated itself. He had thought, that once he was in a position of power, he could prevent it from circling back. And yet, here on Zenobia, it was Thea, her kids, and the rest of the people who had suffered at the hands of another madman.
Only this time, Jim was solely to blame because of Wolff's grudge against him.
There was no going back from that. What was to say that it wouldn't happen again? That Jim's very existence wouldn't give birth to another Wolff, another Zenobia?
Jim didn't know if he could live with that.
So he really wasn't interested in what had happened to him. If he was really curious, he could get the answers from Thea later, if she showed up again. For now, he wanted to know how Spock handled the whole situation after he left the ready room. He wanted to know if the Admirals would give those poor people the respect that they deserved.
Jim waved his hand in what he thought was a dismissive manner, though all he managed was just a weak flop of his wrist, so he settled for shaking his head. "It's fine, Bones. I meant to ask what happened with the Admirals anyway."
A dark cloud suddenly crossed Bones' face and a flicker of anger started to overcome his concern. His hand pulled away, leaving Jim aching from the lack of comfort and warmth. But Jim didn't feel right reaching out for Bones right now. Too much had happened for Jim to rely on Bones like he once did.
"You don't even care about what happens to you, do you, Jim? Are you really feeling that guilty that you have punish yourself like this?" Bones asked with heat lacing his words.
At the hard and stubborn look on Bones' expressions, Jim knew that there was no stalling this conversation anymore, so he forced himself upwards, hiding his wince as he sat to face Bones. Because he would be damned if he showed more vulnerability than he already did.
"What you said in front of the Admirals…do you really not want to be Captain anymore?"
Jim sighed. "What do you want me to say Bones?" he said softly.
Bones leapt to his feet. "I want you to tell me that you're not going to give up! I want you to tell me that you're still fighting!"
"For what? Why should I?" Jim returned, almost equally as hot. "What has that ever done for me other than end in heartbreak and pain? I left a pile of bodies when I left Tarsus. I've left a planet completely destroyed. I've continued to wreak havoc everywhere I've gone. Zenobia was no different. So pardon me if I don't want to leave a legacy of death and chaos."
"Think of all the people you've saved, Jim!"
"Does that excuse all the lives that I've taken, Bones?!" Jim snapped. "Tell that to Liam. Tell him that we're so sorry that his sister – his last living relative, mind you – died because of me, but hey, it's no problem because I saved everyone else."
Jim gave Bones a hardened look, his hands curling into fists. "I won't trivialize their deaths, Bones. I'm taking responsibility for once in my life instead of running away."
"For a genius, you're a fucking moron," Bones hissed. "You don't get it, do you?"
Jim threw up his hands, "What don't I fucking get, Bones?! The fact that I'm a walking reaper? That kids have died at my hands? Or that I'm a completely incompetent human being that just can't get anything right? Tell me, Bones, what don't I get?!"
Bones' face started to turn slightly red. "You think you're so irredeemable. You think your soul is bound for hell and there's no escape. You punish yourself for the lives that you think have been taken or have died because of you. But I am so damn glad that they died and you didn't. Because you're so much more important to me than them. So what does that make me?"
That threw Jim for a loop. He was not expecting that. Bones was his anchor – the one who always pulled him out of his darkness. And yet, here was Bones sinking down with him, dragged down because Jim was too selfish to let him go.
He couldn't do that to Bones. Not to the person who saved Jim from himself. So Jim did what he had to in order to save one of his most precious people.
"It makes you corrupted," Jim shot back, self-loathing increasing with each word. "By me. For your own good, you should walk away from me before it spreads to your daughter."
"That's not what I meant, Jim, and you know it."
"Yeah? Well, that's exactly what I meant."
"Why do you keep saying things like that?" Bone demanded, not backing down an inch. "I know you've had your issues…"
Jim snorted at that. That was the understatement of the century.
"But you wanted to live after you were shot. I saw it before you…" He trailed off, not able to finish the thought.
Jim had no qualms, however, and he leaned forward, a snarl on his face. "I was fucking dying. I was relieved!"
Bones' jaw dropped, completely slack. Jim could read the pain shattering whatever was left of his best friend's heart until there was only room for anger. He snapped his mouth shut so hard that Jim could almost hear Bones' teeth grinding. The fire within Bones' eyes hid just a sliver of bone-crushing pain, but Bones turned away from Jim – the first time he had ever done so when Jim was as injured as he was – and Jim could no longer read the doctor. Without another word, Bones stormed out of the SickBay, leaving Jim all alone.
As it should be. Jim ruined everything around him.
He was always meant to be alone.
He might as well get used to it now.
It felt like hours, but it was only probably at most fifteen minutes before Jim was able to gather the strength to leave. All the hot air within Jim had deflated rapidly once Bones had left, leaving nothing but weariness and the ever present current of sorrow and self-hatred.
Jim sighed and inched himself closer to the edge of the bed. He didn't want to stay in this godforsaken place anymore. He never liked the SickBay, and if Bones' wasn't going to be around, he sure as hell wasn't going to stick around.
His feet weren't steady under him and the journey to just the door was slow-going. He leaned heavily on the walls, breathing harshly as pain pulsated throughout his entire body. The whoosh of the door opening almost knocked him off balance, but there was immediately a hand reaching out to steady him.
Blearily, Jim looked up to see Spock standing quietly in front of him with a kind look in his eyes.
Jim immediately snatched his arm away and looked anywhere but Spock's face.
"Would you like to explain why Doctor McCoy was in tears and refused to speak when he passed by me in the hallway, Jim?" Spock asked lightly.
"No."
Spock just nodded, accepting Jim's curt reply. "I assume you were trying to leave the SickBay. Do you want to return to your quarters?"
"Is it required of me to return to my quarters?" Jim returned with slight bitterness in his voice.
"The Admirals were very clear that you are to remain in your quarters until a verdict has been reached. However, it is as the saying goes, 'I won't say anything if you don't.' Where did you wish to go?"
"I can get there by myself."
"I was never putting your capabilities into doubt, Jim. I merely wanted to accompany you to your destination."
Anger lashed through Jim. He was in too much pain and his heart hurt too much for him to be reasonable. He was a wounded animal backed into a corner, hissing at whatever came by out of sheer bravado and nothing else. "Why? Because you think I'm going to break apart before I even get anywhere?"
"Because I saw you die, Jim," Spock said ever so softly. "Please excuse my foolishness for being affected by it still."
Before Zenobia, Jim would've done anything to make Spock feel better, but all he felt now as a sharp pang of guilt that only made him feel so much heavier. It was more than he could take. All he wanted to do was just wallow in self-pity alone.
Jim roughly ran a hand through his hair and breathed through his nose. "Look, Spock…" he said quietly, trying hard to calm himself. "You once told me that if I ever needed space, I just had to ask. This is me, asking all of you, to give me space."
Spock hesitated. "Jim, I am not sure that is wise."
All Jim could think was how desperately he didn't want Spock to see just how much he was breaking down on the inside. Even worse, he didn't want Spock to know he was letting it happen. He was more than aware of how much he was spiraling downwards, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was stuck in this awful, awful loop of knowing that he was feeling so miserable and guilty, but by not breaking out of it, he could punish himself for just a little longer. More than that, he could remind himself over and over again that he didn't deserve Bones, Spock, Chekov, Sulu, Uhura, and Scotty. He didn't deserve the Enterprise. He didn't deserve happiness, no matter what anyone else was saying.
"Just for a little while," Jim found himself pleading. "I just…I just can't handle it right now, okay? I don't want to talk about it either. I just need some time."
Spock took a step forward, his hand out like he wanted to comfort Jim, but Jim flinched away.
Too preoccupied with the loudness of their wounded hearts, both of them missed the sounds of someone approaching them.
"Vhat's going on?" came Chekov's unmistakable voice. He sounded confused, but mostly concerned.
Startled, Jim and Spock jerked their heads to look at Chekov standing next to them, still in his Starfleet uniform. He looked tired and ragged, but there was a light and strength in his eyes.
Chekov took one look at Jim and stood up straighter, keeping his attention on Spock. "I got him, Commander," Chekov said, a hint of authority in his voice that Jim had never heard before.
To Jim's surprise, Spock merely glanced at Chekov and gave him a single nod, acquiescing. Spock looked back at Jim. "Do not hesitate to seek my help, Jim, for I am always here for you."
Confused, Jim merely wordlessly nodded in response.
Apparently satisfied that Jim was being left in good hands, Spock turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jim with Chekov.
"Keptin," Chekov greeted as he reached over, pulling Jim so that he was no longer leaning on the wall and essentially draped over Chekov's shoulders.
The sudden movement distracted Jim from biting out that he wasn't Captain anymore, and he had an inkling that Chekov was fully aware of that. The two began walking slowly and meticulously down the hallway.
"Since when did Spock answer to you like that?" Jim asked, unable to quell his curiosity.
Chekov just shrugged as best as he could without jostling Jim. "Once the situation called for it, I guess."
Silence fell again. Jim didn't want to talk and Chekov didn't question him, as if Chekov already knew what Jim's short and clipped responses would have been. There was also an understanding between the two of them that wasn't present between Bones or Spock. After all, Chekov had been there. He knew. He didn't have to ask.
Chekov kept Jim trudging forward, nearly carrying the taller man towards the end. Jim didn't question where Chekov was taking him – he trusted Chekov enough to not take him back to his quarters or somewhere where he'd be confined and trapped. Instead, he focused on making his body move.
He was so weak and so full of pain. His legs were lead and every muscle screamed whenever he moved. It bewildered him, because even with closer calls, after Bones' treatment, it was never this bad during recovery. There was still some residual medication in his system, making the aching and throbbing somewhat of an echo in the back of his mind, but he could feel it, and it was enough to steal his breath away every time he moved too quickly, which was worrisome to say the least. He didn't want to think about how much that pain would racket up when the pain meds ran out.
Easily sensing Jim's difficulties, Chekov pulled Jim closer to him, lifting more of Jim's weight onto his shoulders, and quietly said, "Ve are almost there."
'There' ended up being Jim's favorite observation deck – the one he always escaped to when he needed to quell the turmoil in his mind. It was one of the lesser used ones since it was the smallest, but it was quiet, allowing the stars to illuminate the room in a gentle, soft manner that Jim always found soothing.
Jim didn't know how Chekov knew that he liked to be in this observation deck, let alone be the place he wanted to go to in the first place. Before this whole mess, Jim might've felt touched, but since he was actively struggling to ignore all emotions, he honestly didn't know how to feel about it now.
Completely unaware of what Jim was thinking, Chekov wordlessly guided them towards the wall closest to the wide windows where the stars shone through, leaning Jim against it. Grateful for the respite, Jim let out a long exhale as he slowly slid to the ground. Chekov sat down next to him, letting their shoulders touch. The gesture made Jim think back to the time that they had been held captive in Germany where a simple touch was able to seemingly change the dreadful world around them. Only this time, their roles had reversed.
Once again, Jim wasn't sure how to take it. After being in control and being the one whom everyone relied on, it was weird to experience it from the other side, especially since it didn't happen very often.
Something must've shown on Jim's face because Chekov just started talking to fill in the silence, carefully avoiding going too deep into sensitive topics at first. "Did you know that Hikaru had to spend some time in the SickBay? Doctor McCoy had his hands full vith the two of you."
Jim did not know that and based on how Chekov said it, he was surprisingly itching to know what subjected Sulu to the horror that was the SickBay and what happened while he was there.
"Apparently," Chekov continued, without needing prompting from Jim. "Hikaru kept Greenaway's attention on him so that Doctor McCoy and Commander Spock vould remain relatively unharmed. He said that the two of them had a better chance at getting them out, so he incensed Greenaway." Chekov nudged Jim slightly here, with a small smile, "Between you and me, I think he made that reason up later. He probably just vanted to give Greenaway a piece of his mind. That's Hikaru for you."
Jim almost smiled at that. Sulu did have a sharp tongue that Jim truly enjoyed bantering with and his wit and retorts were always such a delight. Sulu's dry sarcasm matched his so well too, which something that was a bit of a rarity. Other than Bones and Sulu, there were only a handful of people that Jim had met that he had gotten along with like fire and oil on sarcasm alone.
"Vhat vas really funny vas vhen Hikaru vas in SickBay though. He got an infection and became a little delusional. He kept trying to kiss everyone vho came near him." Chekov snickered. "He almost got Doctor McCoy, but Doctor McCoy moved out of the way too fast. He ended up landing one on Commander Spock vho vas trying to help Doctor McCoy hold him down."
Now that made Jim crack a small smile. He could imagine McCoy's eyes widening comically when he reached what Sulu was about to do – he was a doctor, after all. Having patients do the unexpected and reacting to avoid if necessary was something that McCoy had been intimately trained in. Spock, on the other hand, probably froze in place, trying to make Sulu's actions logical in his mind. Jim would bet good money that Spock's reaction was to just walk away with a blank expression because the illogicalness of humans had broken his Vulcan mindset again.
"Lieutenant Commander Scott has a picture. I'll make sure ve forward it to you," Chekov promised as he shifted a bit, moving closer to Jim. "Lieutenant Commander Scott has been hard at vork reconfiguring the Enterprise. I looked at his vork and I don't think even you could break through his firevalls this time. He has also been down on Zenobia upgrading their technology. Commander Spock and he created this harvesting machine that can help the Zenobians vith their crops, vhich Hikaru has managed to save using some of the seeds he has in his botanic garden onboard."
"Lieutenant Uhura has been liaising with Starfleet to contact the families of the orphaned children and to let other relatives know vhat has happened. She has also vrangled the Admirals into sending another relief ship to stay docked in Zenobia until she and her people have fully recovered. Once that ship arrives, ve are free to return to Starfleet for our own recovery."
The tone grew more somber here, but it didn't hide how proud Chekov was. "Our crew truly is amazing, Keptin. Everyone is so tired and veary. You can see it on their faces, but yet, they're happy to help out the Zenobians, no questions asked. They have single-handedly helped rebuild homes and crops. Every time I beam down, I see them playing with the kids and chatting with the villagers. The smiles and laughter have come back to Zenobia, Keptin, because of them. They don't even come back onboard where it is comfortable. They sleep in tents because they vant to be available at all times."
Chekov looked at Jim with such pride. "They truly are the best crew in the vorld, Keptin. They're proud to be ours, and I'm proud that ve are theirs."
That was something that Jim was acutely aware of. He didn't deserve them. He looked away into the darkness of the stars.
Reading Jim's carefully placed blank mask, Chekov felt slightly guilty that talking about the crew. He had wanted to show Jim that he didn't screw up like he thought he did. And that the crew still cared for Jim. Their love for the Zenobians proved that, because they learned to care and love from their Captain, but it was obvious that it would take more than a few pretty words to make Jim realize this. Especially when Chekov could still imagine seeing Thea's ghost hovering over Jim's hunched shoulders.
Chekov didn't know what to do to help him, and it was killing Chekov. He had replayed the events down on Zenobia over and over again, running different scenarios to see what he could've done differently that may have saved Thea, but everything that Chekov thought of always ended in either the loss of the crew and their friends or Thea and her kids. There simply wasn't enough time to save everyone, and Chekov was sure that Jim knew this because Jim would've thought of thousands more scenarios than him.
Somewhere and somehow, someone was always going to lose something. Chekov was only beginning to realize what Jim had known from the very start: that that someone was always going to be Jim. The difference was, Chekov wasn't going to let it destroy Jim even though Jim was clearly torturing himself.
A few minutes of silence passed before Chekov cleared his throat.
"Keptin…" Chekov said carefully. "Doctor McCoy and Commander Spock told us what you said to the Admirals."
Jim sighed. "They really shouldn't have done that. That was a classified meeting."
Chekov didn't let Jim's attempted deflection daunt him. "Keptin, you kept your promise to Thea. You saved Liam and those other kids. They have all been reunited vith their families and though it may take a vhile for them to truly be okay, they are laughing again. Does Thea's death outveigh their happiness?"
"And what about Liam? The last we spoke, he didn't have anyone else left. Does the happiness of the rest of the kids outweigh the loss of his sister?" Jim ran his trembling fingers through his hair. "I don't want to talk about this, Chekov. You know that."
"I'm not asking you to, Keptin, and you know that," Chekov returned.
"What do you want from me then, Chekov? Do you want me to stop blaming myself? Because you know that that's never going to happen. It was my fault."
"Keptin, I think ve know each vell enough to know that nothing anyone says vill ever stop you from blaming yourself, no matter how much ve vant you to. Only time can help vith that."
Chekov frowned, sadness creeping into his voice. "The others may not understand vhat truly transpired down on Zenobia. And even though I vas vith you, I don't know everything that's going through your mind either. But you're not the only one vho feels guilty, Keptin. If I hadn't taken so long setting up the traps or if I had run a bit faster, then maybe ve vould had made it back to the cave before Thea even left. I played a part in her death too. But that's not even the vorse part."
"Liam has been following me around like a lost duckling, but I can't even tell him how sorry I am for everything. Not vhen he has been trying so desperately to be strong for those kids and us. But I can see how much he just vants to break down and cry in his sister's arms when he can't." Chekov had tears in his eyes when he glanced back at Jim. "I never understood how much you truly carried on your shoulders, Keptin. Thank you. Thank you for sheltering me and the rest of us with your kindness. And I'm sorry that you had to protect us. I'm sorry that you felt that you had to bear everything on your own."
"The guilt you feel right now is as much our fault as it is Wolff's. And ve vill take responsibility for that. You do vhat you must for yourself, Keptin. Ve vill have your back, always, because you have always had ours."
The sincerity in Chekov's words and expression was so strong that it made Jim's throat feel choked up. He felt the tenseness in his body unraveling a little.
"Sorry…" he said quietly. For worrying Chekov and the rest of them, for being so difficult and self-absorbed that he didn't even consider what the others were feeling.
Chekov shook his head. "There is nothing to be sorry for, Keptin. Ve know that you need time. Ve understand."
"I think I may have broken Bones though."
"More than anyone else, I think Doctor McCoy vould understand the most."
"You don't know what I said to him. I wouldn't be surprised if he never spoke to me again."
"You underestimate him, Keptin. He is not so easily scared off."
It wasn't that Jim had a hard time believing it. He just knew that if whatever he had between Bones was truly done and he had even a single ounce of hope left that Bones would forgive him, he would never recover. So he just didn't let himself think about it, but forcing himself to shove that thought aside made room for another, and he found his mind drifting back to Thea again.
"What are you thinking about, Keptin?" Chekov asked quietly, as if he knew what Jim started to think about.
At first, Jim was going to deflect or lie, but he remembered seeing Chekov's worried eyes when he had brought Thea's body back to the cave. He remembered Chekov immediately flanking him, no questions asked, and acting as his silent support. And Chekov didn't try to talk him out of feeling guilty or treat him like he was broken or fragile. He simply understood to the best of his ability, and that went a long way.
If anything, Jim owed Chekov some truth for his undying loyalty and friendship that Jim knew he didn't deserve.
So Jim leaned his head back, closing his eyes and confessed for the first time since he had woken up on the Enterprise. "Every time I close my eyes," he whispered a bit brokenly, "All I can see is Thea's face when she died in my arms, the blood that covered my hands. And every time I try to look away, all I see are the kids that died on Tarsus. Everywhere I look, there is blood and death. I'm just so tired of it all."
There was a moment of silence while Chekov processed it. Then he abruptly stood up, surprising Jim slightly. "Stay right here. I vill be right back." And proceeded to dash out of the room.
Jim was completely baffled as he watched the door close behind Chekov.
"He'll be back, don't worry," came a familiar voice.
Jim slowly turned his head to see Thea standing before him. She was in her usual olive-green outfit and her arms were held behind her back, making her look slightly younger. Jim didn't know if he felt happy or worried that she was back, but all the same, he still smiled at her.
Whether she was actually there or not, he had missed her. "Hello, Thea," he greeted warmly.
Thea grinned back. "Looks like you're finally accepting the fact that I'm not a hallucination, Jim."
Jim shook his head. "No, I just stopped caring about what you are. Where did you go anyway?"
"I was saving energy."
"That's not weird at all."
Thea just shrugged, "You were out of it for a while anyway."
"Why are you still here, Thea?"
"Because you clearly still need me."
"How so?"
She pointed at Jim's chest. There was still a dot of red that was slowly, slowly spreading. "You still need me."
Almost defensively, Jim covered his wound with a hand, rubbing it when the movement caused a spark of pain to flash through his body. "What does this have to do with you sticking around?"
"I told you before, didn't I? Your body is a mess. It's only being kept together by the Goddess' magic, but her magic works through belief. You don't want her magic to help you, so your body keeps rejecting it. Which is what's preventing your wounds from closing and what made you vomit blood."
"What do you mean I don't want her magic to help me? It's not like I like feeling this shitty all the time."
"You're feeling so guilty that on a subconscious level, you reject her magic because you think you deserve to suffer. And don't even deny it. You and I both know that what I'm saying is right."
Defensiveness gone, Jim's shoulders fell. "Can you fault me for feeling so guilty? I mean, I don't even know what you are – ghost, hallucination, or whatever – but the fact that you're intangible instead of actually being in front of me, isn't that proof of my guilt already?"
"Jim, I keep telling you, there's no reason to be guilty over my death. I was already dying. I had an inoperable brain tumor and was told that I should've been dead two months ago. By the time I met you, every breath I took should have been my last. I was always on borrowed time."
"I wanted to die on my own terms – to give my life something so that I would have meaning. Saving my brother by protecting you was something I was, and still am, willing to give my life for. I don't regret anything, Jim. In fact, I thank you for letting me go the way I have always wanted to."
Jim shook his head vigorously. "You're lying to me. My brain is making this up to make myself feel better."
Thea swooped in, lightly cupping Jim's cheeks with her dainty, transparent hands. "Whether or not I'm lying, isn't that proof that you're already taking a step forward? It's okay to hurt, Jim. It's okay to feel guilty, but you can't let it consume you. You're fighting so hard against it, but you know it to be true." Her hazel eyes grew stronger. "Stop using me as an excuse to punish yourself, Jim. It's not fair to either of us."
Jim's eyes watered. "I can't…" he said quietly with a broken undertone. "I'm not strong enough to do this again. I don't have the strength to put myself back together."
"You'll find the strength, Jim. You just have to give yourself that chance."
She pulled away, stepping back a couple of steps. Almost instinctively, afraid that she would disappear, Jim childishly reached out for her, but she just shook her head with a small smile.
"Jim?" a new voice called out.
Flinching with surprise, Jim turned to see Liam standing with Chekov by the doorway. Both of them looked extremely concerned to see Jim's arm reaching for something that wasn't there.
Jim should've pulled his hand back, but he completely froze at the sight of Liam. "Liam…" he whispered.
"You look like shit, Jim," Liam said in return.
"Language," Jim admonished on reflex, recovering enough to pull back his arm and lean as far back against the wall as he could, as if it could shelter him from what he expected was wrath on Liam's end, not that it wasn't justified.
But when Jim finally found the courage to look up at Liam, all he saw was a completely expressionless mask with a tinge of pitying that Jim couldn't handle.
"Well, I'm not lying," retorted Liam, putting his hands in his front pockets with his shoulders slightly shrugged.
Liam seemed almost embarrassed for being so brazen in front of Jim, which just did not make sense to him. Why didn't Liam hate him? Jim's eyes flickered over to Thea, who was staring at her brother with such longing, but there was also pride in her face.
The paradox from the siblings was too much for Jim right now and he couldn't find any words to fill in the silence. Neither could Liam, but for different reasons.
Liam knew exactly why Jim looked as awful as he did. The strength that Jim had exuded on the planet was completely gone now. He looked like the shell of what he was before. The pallor in his face had washed out to pure white; the bruises under his eyes showed how little Jim was resting. And the manner in which Jim was carefully holding his body told of unspeakable pain that he was desperately trying to hold back. Not to mention the pinkish hue that was peeking out of Jim's shirt…Jim was in agony, both physically and emotionally, because of the promises both he and his sister had essentially forced upon him.
It was heavy, that guilt that Liam felt, but he also knew that it was nothing compared to what Jim was feeling. And he didn't know how to fix it.
In both Liam's and Jim's reticence, Chekov gently coaxed "Liam, vhy don't you tell the Keptin about the kind people vho are taking you in?" Chekov gently coaxed.
"Oh yeah," Liam nodded. "My parents' best friends were off-planet when everything happened, but once they heard about us, they immediately asked if they could adopt me. I'll be living with them when they come back to Zenobia."
Thea squealed next to Jim. "Oh, I love Jill and Stan. They were basically our aunt and uncle. We were always at their house or they were with us." She beamed at Jim. "They couldn't have kids on their own, so they basically adopted us as their own. They would be great parents for Liam."
Jim had no idea where he was getting all these ideas for Thea to say out loud. He was sure his imagination wasn't good enough to fill in a back story for whoever was taking in Liam, but that wasn't important at the moment.
Jim looked up at Liam, seriousness in his blue eyes. "Will you be happy with them?"
Liam nodded. "They were always great to Thea and me."
"So you'll be staying on Zenobia?"
"Yeah. This is my home, despite what happened. Besides," Liam looked at his feet, "Mom, Dad, and Thea are buried here. I can't leave just yet."
Jim saw no traces of any lies to either of his questions, and he felt a rush of relief at that, but at the mention of Thea being buried, Jim felt a stab of pain throb through his chest, and he couldn't keep eye contact with Liam anymore.
His actions were not lost on Liam, and Liam stepped forward so that he stood right before Jim. Thea ghosted behind him, placing herself so close to him that she was literally almost on him. She looked content to just be near her little brother.
Liam, on the other hand, put his hands on his hips and scowled at Jim. "Are you still feeling guilty about Thea?"
Jim chose not to answer.
"How many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn't feel guilty about her? You kept your promise. All of us kids ended up okay and you saved your crew. Thea thanked you, remember?"
Unable to stop it, Jim's body flinched at those last few words, making pain lance through him for a brief second, nearly stealing his breath away. "Don't say that…" Jim whispered.
"Why not? It's the truth, isn't it?"
"Why aren't you mad at me, Liam? Why don't you hate me for not saving your sister?"
"I keep telling you that you did. Do you want me to be angry with you? To tell you to live on so that my hatred may one day kill you?"
Jim closed his eyes. Resigned. "Yes."
"But I'm not angry. I don't hate you either."
"Is that my punishment then? To be forgiven?"
"No. There's nothing to forgive."
"What do you mean there's nothing to forgive?! I…" Jim exclaimed, but he never finished his protest.
"She was dying," Liam interjected, making Jim's mouth snap shut. "She was dying, Jim. She had a brain tumor the size of a grape sitting on her brainstem. Completely inoperable, even with today's technological advances. She was told that she had six months left to live, if even that. She had been over that by two months when we met you."
"She had pushed and forced herself to stay alive for me and the rest of the kids. She was at her limit long before we even met you. All she wanted was to go out on her own terms. To be free of any burdens or fear. You were there to take her burdens as your own and you took away all her fears. You let her die peacefully. It's not something to be guilty of. It's something that she and I are incredibly thankful for."
How was that story exactly the same as Thea's?! Down to the last tiny detail. But it couldn't be. She was something his overwhelming grief had made up!
Horror filled Jim as realization slammed into him like a freight train. He gaped at Thea, unable to tear his eyes away from her.
She smiled sheepishly at him. "I told you I wasn't a hallucination."
Then what the hell was she? It was one thing to think that she was a figment of his imagination, but know what that she was something else entirely? Jim didn't know what the hell was going on, but he knew that he needed to know now. Because his sanity and whatever was left of his soul couldn't take it if Thea was trapped forever as a ghost and doomed to follow Jim around.
"Jim?" questioned Liam when he saw Jim's face pale further. The haunted look in his eyes deepened and he seemed to see past Liam.
Jim's dark blue eyes flickered back to Liam, reading the concern that was written all over the teenager's face. His sister was floating behind him, stuck to Jim – the man who caused her death – and here Liam was, worried for Jim.
He couldn't. He just couldn't. The tiny pieces that Jim had managed to put back together were shattering into millions more. And he didn't want anyone else to see it.
He needed Chekov and Liam gone – away from the mess and swirling chaos that was him – before it was too late.
"Get out," he whispered hoarsely. He almost winced at the sheer desperation that had crept into his words.
The abruptness of Jim's demand caught both Liam and Chekov by surprise.
"What?" Liam asked, confusion heavy in his voice.
Jim turned to glare at Chekov. "You need to leave. Now."
"Keptin…" Chekov protested.
In that split second, Jim completely snapped. "I'm not your fucking Captain anymore, Chekov! GO AWAY!" he roared as loudly as his broken body would allow.
Shocked beyond comprehension, Liam scampered backwards, bumping into Chekov. Blindly, Chekov just held onto Liam while gaping at Jim with such hurt and confusion on his face, but when he saw the look in Jim's eye, Chekov quietly and quickly ushered Liam out.
With them gone, Jim just knew that it was time to face his demons – specifically, one whose name is Thea. And Jim dreaded the answers he knew he was going to get.
Whatever bravado Jim had left instantly dissipated when the doors closed behind Chekov and Liam. He curled into himself, hugging his knees closer to himself, despite the spike of pain that evolved in a low hum of constant throbbing.
Thea slowly walked up to Jim and lowered herself to the floor, sitting only a couple of inches away from him. "Jim," she said softly. "Talk to me. You need to talk to me."
After a second, Jim lifted his head. "What are you? Why are you here? Is this my punishment for letting you die?"
Thea shook her head. "No, silly. I told you, I don't blame you for my death. I was always meant to save you."
"How is that fair? You're another person! You had a life, a family. You had people who loved you! And you're telling me that your sole purpose was to bring me back to life?! No, I reject that. The universe and your precious Goddess can go fuck themselves if they think it's fun to play with lives so easily like we mere toys in their hands."
"It's not like that, Jim." Thea sighed, scooting a bit closer to him. "The Goddess is dying. She has been for years, but Zenobia always needs a Goddess to keep her alive. I was born to take her place when she goes. She wanted to let me live as human first, to know them and most importantly, to learn what love is. But then Greenaway and Wolff came to power."
"Her strength was drained more than she had anticipated as she tried to protect the children of this world. As time passed and I became more desperate to protect my brother and the other kids, my soul was in danger of being permanently tainted. If I had killed any of Greenaway's soldiers, I wouldn't be able to take the Goddess' place and Zenobia would have slowly died without her magic feeding into the earth. So she sent me you. You protected me and gave so much for me. You weren't supposed to have met your end here. The universe still needed you, and so the Goddess stepped in. But she didn't have the strength anymore. She needed me to save you. And that's what I did. This was always meant to be."
Thea looked sadly at Jim. "But I'm sorry you're suffering like this. We never meant to hurt you so much." She gently placed her right hand on Jim's chest. "I can feel your heart aching and crying out. And I'm so, so sorry that your body and soul is in so much pain."
Her voice had become so choked up that it made Jim glance up in concern. She was crying and anguish written all across her beautiful face. It wasn't right. Without thinking, Jim reached out to wipe away her tears. When his mind caught up to his actions, he thought that his hand would just go through her, but he was able to touch her – to cup her face and use his thumb to brush away her tears.
She huffed out a wet chuckle at the bewilderment in his expressions and leaned into his touch. "I'm not a ghost, Jim, or a hallucination. I'm actually here. For you."
"How?" breathed Jim.
"The Goddess' magic is flowing into me. I'm taking her place soon, but I had to make sure that you were going to be alright first. Because you deserve all the happiness in the world, even if you don't believe it. You're a good man, Jim, no matter what you may think about yourself. And it's because of you and your kindness that Zenobia and her people, including my brother and kids, will continue to live."
"I can't. So many people died because of me. You died because of me. Their lives and those around them have been ruined and shattered. And you want me to just be fine with that? To live my life happily when they can't? No, I don't deserve it."
"But you do, Jim. You do. You just have to believe it."
Jim stubbornly shook his head and pulled away from her. "I'm a lost cause, Thea. You should leave me alone and go spend your time with your brother."
At his words, Thea stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "No. You may have given up on yourself, but I won't. Never."
"Go away, Thea. Spend your time on someone more worth it."
Seeing how her words weren't getting through, Thea stepped back with determination in her eyes. "I'll go for now, but I'll be back. Think about what I said, Jim. You are worth it, remember."
She faded into the darkness, leaving Jim alone with his thoughts.
Jim just leaned back and closed his eyes, letting his emotions overwhelm him. The pain that was quietly thrumming in the background slowly made itself more known as the minutes ticked on by.
With the medication wearing off, pain pulsated through his entire body. His chest ached each time he exhaled or even inhaled. It felt like he was being stabbed over and over again. The soreness in his muscles increased exponentially, to the point that he had to fight so hard to not whine every time he moved a finger. He could feel the burn of the tears in the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't even lift his hands to brush them away. God, even his fingernails hurt. He didn't think that was possible, but damn did it ache.
He hurt so, so much, and all he wanted was Bones even though he didn't deserve him. Not after how he deeply he cut his best friend. He didn't regret doing it though, because Bones shouldn't be punished for being a kind, loyal person. Jim was just selfish and clung to Bones when he should've run away to protect him.
Still, Jim wanted Bones like a kid wanting his big brother when he was sick. God, it felt like all Jim did nowadays was be a selfish, selfish bastard.
A single tear trickled down his cheek. Unable to wipe it away, Jim just leaned his head back against the wall with a soft whimper and closed his eyes, trying to will the pain away with no avail.
In that moment, he didn't think he had ever felt so alone before.
Suddenly, he felt a gentle hand brush against his cheek and he startled, a whine emitting from deep within his chest. Even to his ears, he sounded like a wounded animal. He probably looked like one too, curled up in the corner and licking his own wounds.
He looked up, and there was Bones, softly wiping away Jim's tears before gently pressing a hypospray against his neck. The injection of what had to be pain relievers was painless and rushed through his veins, soothing and putting out the fire rapidly.
All of a sudden, it was like a rainfall after a long and tortuous drought. Jim was sure it showed on his face because when Bones sat back on his heels, all he had on was a small smile and a kind expression.
"I figured the meds were probably outta your system," he said, explaining his presence before Jim had the chance to ask. "Sorry I'm a bit late."
That kindness was what tipped the scales, shattering Jim's shaky and tentative hold on himself. Everything that made him who he was in jagged pieces around him. He couldn't stop the tears anymore.
The feelings that Jim had ruthlessly pushed down came welling up like a geyser. He let himself go completely, letting his soul cry for Thea and the future that she would never see. He cried for Liam and how alone he was in this world now. He cried for his kids that never made it out of Tarsus. He let the exhaustion of bearing all of his burdens come out. He let everything come out, leaving his chest wide open and empty. Most of all, he cried for his broken heart and soul that just couldn't take anything more anymore.
And all Bones did was tug Jim closer to him, pulling him so that Jim could bury his face into Bones' chest. Bones wrapped his arms around Jim, rubbing Jim's back soothingly as he whispered words to him, telling him that it was okay and that he was going to be alright. Bones held Jim tightly, as if he alone could keep Jim together as Jim fell apart before him.
Slowly, after a long while, Jim's sobs quieted, his body finally giving out to his injuries and sheer exhaustion, but his hands remained clenched around Bones' shirt, grasping so hard that his knuckles turned white. Even though it made his fingers ache in soreness, Jim couldn't let go. His hold on Bones was the only thing that made him feel grounded. If he let go, he just felt like he was going to be swept away completely, lost with nothing to pull him back.
"It's going to be okay, Jim," Bones murmured quietly, rubbing Jim's back as comfortingly as he could.
There was nothing left in Jim, no strength to even keep his head up anymore. So he didn't. He leaned back, resting his head against Bones' shoulder. "I can't anymore, Bones. I'm just so tired," he whispered. "So tired…"
"Then rest. Let me take care of you." Bones shifted so that he could press his forehead against Jim's. "Please. Let me help you. If you're too tired to carry on or you can't anymore, let me carry on for you. Let me help you, Jim."
The tears renewed, wrecking Jim more. "Why?" he cried desperately, "Why won't you let me go?"
"Because you're my brother, my best friend. You're mine, just as I am yours. I'll never let you go. I'm not losing anyone again. And I especially won't lose you."
Bones moved back, but his hand came up to cup the back of Jim's head, letting Jim's rest at the junction between his shoulder and neck. His cheek rested on the top of Jim's head. "You've been on your own for so long, carrying everything for everyone else so that they would never feel the same sorrow and guilt that you did. So I know it goes against everything that you are to rely on someone else, but you're not alone anymore, Jimmy. You don't have to shoulder all these burdens alone. Please, let me help you. Let us help you."
Jim should've known. Bones was as stubborn as he was. Bones would never let go of him as long as he still had breath in him.
Bones would never let Jim fall so far that he was completely without hope.
So really, there was only one thing left to do. One thing he could do, because if he didn't, there was no coming back.
Sighing softly, Jim closed his exhausted eyes, nodding once into Bones' neck, and surrendering his everything to Bones.
"Thank you," Bones breathed into his ear.
It was the last thing Jim heard before succumbing to lull of the medications, injuries, and sheer, utter exhaustion, fading into the darkness that he seemed to welcome so often nowadays.
Bones knew the exact moment Jim fell asleep. He felt Jim go slack against him and his fingers loosen its death grip on his shirt. Jim's breaths were even and steady and Bones just sat there for a few moments to listen in relief.
It had been pure torture to see Jim suffer – almost as awful as saying goodbye to his daughter every time he had to leave her behind. Jim had been spiraling and in the usual Jim fashion, he pushed everyone and everything away. It seemed that Jim had finally reached his breaking point. And all Bones could do was thank whatever deity was out there that Jim was letting him in. Because he couldn't bear to lose Jim a second time.
Shifting slightly, Bones rearranged Jim so that it was easier to pick him up bridal style. When he stood up, Jim's head lolled towards Bones' neck, almost as if he was hiding his face from the world. Bones frowned at how light Jim was. He was even lighter than when he was first brought back onboard, but Bones would work on that a little later. There was no helping the physical body when the mind needed to heal.
Carefully, Bones carried Jim out of the observation deck. He was completely unsurprised to see Chekov sitting outside the door, his knees drawn up to him. The teenager had a pinched look of worry and guilt on his face, no doubt concerned that his choice of bringing Liam to Jim had completely unraveled the man.
Bones wanted to tell Chekov that that was nothing to feel guilty about – what had happened to Jim was a long time coming, even before they came to this godforsaken planet – but Bones didn't think that was something that he could reassure.
When Chekov saw him, he immediately sprang up and started walking alongside him. Though it was obvious that Chekov was bursting with questions, to ask what happened, how Jim was doing, but when he took one look at Bones' tired and somber expression, he bit his tongue, looking away from the two.
He looked so much like a kicked puppy that Bones took pity on him. "Thank you for telling me where he was. Just in time too. His pain meds had started to wear off."
Chekov glanced at Bones with a knowing gaze in his eyes. As if he knew that Bones had instantly regretted leaving Jim behind the way he did and had wallowed in so much guilt because he did that he almost cracked open his bottle of whiskey to get plastered on the floor. When Bones came to his senses, he instantly went to look for Jim, but Jim wasn't in the SickBay, his quarters, or anywhere else that he had searched. He had become so frantic when he couldn't locate Jim that he was inches away from calling Spock and getting the whole brigade back onboard to help him search when Chekov called him to tell him what happened with Liam.
Bones tried very hard to avoid making contact with Chekov, and Chekov, bless his heart, understood and kept quiet, following him all the way to Jim's quarters. Chekov helped Bones open the door to the room, but he didn't step inside with Bones and Jim. He lingered outside, knowing full well that this was a moment that he couldn't intrude into.
He turned his back on the door, standing guard, as Bones walked into the darkness. When the door closed behind him, a quick mumble to the computer lit Jim's room in dim lights. Gently, Bones laid Jim down on his bed, tucking him in as gently as he did with his daughter. He ran his hand through Jim's hair, like he always did, and wiped away the remaining tears on Jim's face.
Minutes later, there was a single, quiet knock on the door, but it wasn't loud enough to even cause Jim to stir. Bones silently promised Jim that he would be right back before answering it.
Standing outside was Spock, Sulu, Scotty, Uhura, and Chekov, all wearing the same worried and broken expressions. Chekov must've called them or, more likely, they had been keeping track of Jim's movements the entire time and sensed that this was a turning point for all them.
Just based on the haunted and tired looks they had on their faces, Bones knew that Jim's self-isolation was damaging to them all. It wasn't the first time that Bones realized how much their little family revolved around Jim. They all gravitated around Jim like the planets and the sun. And they all couldn't live without their sun.
"How is he?" asked Uhura softly.
Bones stepped out of the room completely, letting the door close behind him to give Jim some semblance of privacy while he was so vulnerable even though he knew it really wasn't necessary. None of them had even tried to peer around McCoy when the door was open.
"Physically, he's fine," McCoy sighed, "Mentally, he's a hot mess. This whole thing cut way too close to home for him. With us in danger and his desperation to save everything, it just put him over the edge. He just couldn't take it all anymore."
Chekov nearly whined at that and clutched Sulu's sleeve. Sulu didn't mind at all and just moved slightly closer. He kept his eyes on Bones though. "Is he going to be alright?"
"It'll take time, a lot of time, but I think so. I hope so."
"What do you need us ta do?" questioned Scotty. "We'll do anything fer him."
"Just be there for him. Remind him that he doesn't have to do this by himself."
They all shared a look of understanding and determination.
"Always, remember?" Chekov said quietly. "That vas our promise to him."
"Yes," Uhura agreed. "Rule forty-three." Never break a promise.
Spock nodded once, his next word resolute and certain. "Always."
They had sworn that they would never turn their back on Jim and they would always be there for him as he was for them.
Never alone. That was their promise. And they were going to keep it, no matter what.
To be continued...
Welp. I'm obviously shit at updating within a reasonable amount of time. So sorry, guys. Honestly. I've had so many people ask me to update and I just didn't have the time to. But I honestly have a legitimate excuse. I'm about to graduate and have been going through a ridiculous amount of stress and effort to apply for fellowships/jobs. On top of that, my mom's kidneys have started to fail and needs to get on the transplant list. She doesn't speak much English so I'm pretty much her translator. Good thing I'm kind of in the healthcare field so I know what's going on and can be there for her. Needless to say, it's been a very difficult few months. With everything that was going on, I was kind of drowning, but you know what's ironic? I stopped writing because I couldn't handle things, but writing is what ultimately helped me through the roughest days. So I'm going to try my hardest to finish this story and add another chapter to Ingenious Idiot soon.For me, you know?
Thanks for everyone who reviewed and kept supporting me! I hope you guys stick with me even though I'm clearly awful at updating. Sorry!
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! I think there should only be a couple more chapters left - it's all planned out. Just don't know how long it'll end up being. But like always, please review!
Cheers,
Yuna