Chapter 3 - A Thousand Paper Cuts Treated by Alcohol

"Tell him he looks a bit peaked and send him down here. We'll accidentally put him in an induced coma. He won't remember a thing."

McCoy poured out a double shot for Kirk and pushed the tumbler across his desk.

The whiskey burned Kirk's eyes as the vapors wafted up from the glass. "I'm supposed to be there for them. Always." Kirk took a swig. "Klingons, Tholians, Admirals. I'm supposed to protect them by making the right decisions."

"Sometimes there is no right decision."

Kirk waved his glass at McCoy. "I didn't used to believe that. But I might be convinced in another day or two." He finished off the glass. The liquid outlined his throat with a spreading burn. "I might already believe it."

"The man's a menace," McCoy said. "Why does Starfleet keep something like that around?"

"He's probably really good at paperwork."

"I bet he loves paperwork," McCoy said, putting another splash into Kirk's glass.

Kirk pushed the glass away when it was pushed closer. A hopeless weariness had flowed into his limbs.

"Really, Jim, you've already endured more than can possibly be expected of you."

Kirk nodded and stared at the amber liquid. It was clinging to the inside of the glass. He wondered if it could switch the tide from depression to uncaring happiness.

"I'd rather be put under a Klingon mind-sifter than face another day on the bridge. My bridge." Kirk leaned forward. "It's my damn bridge. That man doesn't understand that. It doesn't matter if he outranks me. This ship isn't a padd stylus you can push around and hand over to someone else to push around. It knows its commander."

McCoy sat with his half-full tumbler under his nose, breathing in and out. "Did you tell him that?"

"As many ways as I could. He can't comprehend what I'm saying because he has no direct experience with it. He said I sounded like a spoiled child."

Kirk reached for his glass and swallowed what was in it. His throat had gone numb, but he could feel the wave of new alcohol seeping into his brain.

"Can you go over his head?" McCoy asked.

"I tried that. Two weeks into this torture. My input into the situation was not welcome. Unquote."

"I really think you are going to have to arrange an accident, Jim."

Kirk snorted from trying to hold in a laugh. "Your advice couldn't be more different from Spock's."

"Let me guess. His was 'more control.' Right?"

Kirk nodded. He lifted and stared into his empty glass. "But in fairness to our Vulcan friend, he has been trying hard to be flexible."

"That I'd like to see."

"You can't. If you were there, he wouldn't be."

"Just my luck."

Kirk stood up, but didn't have a desire to leave. His ship wasn't a safe haven. That had been stolen from him.

"Since I'm already without joy, I should go read reports. Maybe somewhere he wouldn't ever look for me. Maybe in the computer core."

McCoy gave him a sympathetic smile. "You going to make it, Jim?"

Kirk put his glass down and gave it a shove across the desk. It slid off the far side, but McCoy caught it.

"I honestly don't know. I honestly don't." He shook his head. "I let my crew down today." Stating this brought a wave of bleak emotion up from his gut and into his frontal lobe where it settled in with the whiskey.

"They'll forgive you."

"Spock won't if I lose control around the admiral."

McCoy grinned. "That's only because he doesn't want command."

"I have the best crew in Starfleet. They'd do anything for me. But they can't help with this. I have to do it, and I'm afraid I'm going to fail."

McCoy stood up. "What the hell kind of talk is that, Jim? This is just a superior officer, not intergalactic war."

Kirk leaned on his hands over the desk. "He's taken me prisoner on my own ship. Hung me out there to show I can't stand up to him forever."

"Jim. Get some dinner and go to bed. Better yet. I'll get some dinner with you, and put you to bed."

"I have paperwork. In the computer core."

McCoy came around the desk and took Kirk by the elbow. "You can hide wherever you want after we have some dinner."

Kirk woke groggily, but at least he woke up. Around oh four hundred he had doubted that he'd sleep at all. It was still early. He'd failed the day before to beat Diamond to the bridge, and between that and a desire to not have to bear Spock's scrutiny immediately after his evening with Bones, Kirk leapt from the bed and got ready for shift.

The corridors were still dimmed for night, which made Kirk yawn. He veered a bit as he walked and stopped to rub his eyes. He imagined how he would look to himself as an ensign: tired, slightly hung over, stressed by petty things. He'd be worried if he were that ensign. This man was not a deserving leader, was captain only in name.

Kirk slapped his face. One side than the other. The lights began to rise. He'd better pull himself together and at least pretend to be in charge.

Kirk relieved the third shift conn, who was too tired herself to notice Kirk's state, and settled into his chair. When Spock came on shift, he nodded at Kirk, then diverted down into the command circle. He rested his hands on the chair arm and gazed at Kirk. Kirk could see him formulating things to say and then discarding them as perhaps giving too much away to the rest of the regular bridge crew, who were now coming on duty.

Kirk left him hanging there, finding much needed amusement in his struggle, before saying, "I'm all right, Spock. Late night of paperwork."

At Spock's doubtful expression, Kirk chuckled. "Once I got started I wanted to get caught up." This came out well because it was true. It just wasn't the reason he hadn't slept. Sulu turned and smiled at this, so it must have been convincing.

The bridge doors swished open. Spock was holding the chair arm, so Kirk couldn't turn it. He watched Diamond enter out of the corner of his eye.

"Captain."

"Admiral."

Spock pushed away from the command chair and retreated to his station.

They had an hour's parole before the warden started in on them.

"Drills didn't go very well yesterday, Captain." Diamond had a padd in hand. He held it out.

Kirk waved it off. "I'm aware. Down almost 5% efficiency from last run." In front of him, Chekov and Sulu bowed their heads just slightly. "But it's not the crew's fault. They performed exemplary last week. You can't continually demand things of them for no reason."

"They should assume that there is a reason if they are ordered to do so."

Kirk rubbed his eyes, which felt swollen. "I don't even know where to start," he said from under his hand.

"You are coddling them, Kirk, that's why they slack off when they can."

Kirk nearly toppled. This wasn't an insult just to him; that he could handle. Sulu glanced over his shoulder. Behind him, Kirk could almost feel Spock urging him to maintain control of himself.

Kirk had to use a mental exercise he'd learned from interrogation resistance training, which was to pretend he was answering a different question. He calmly said, "I strongly disagree."

He had to move. He stood and faced Diamond. But there were no words that would solve this. He'd already tried them all. Spock had walked to communications, probably to be fully in Kirk's field of view. This annoyed Kirk additionally.

"I think we've lost track of what we are trying to accomplish." Kirk's voice was low and slow and slightly menacing. Uhura pulled the receiver out of her ear.

Diamond crisply said, "I know exactly what I'm trying to accomplish, Kirk."

"Well, I haven't the slightest idea. Maybe you can fill me in."

"You really want me to repeat myself, Captain? Here?" He indicated the bridge with a wave.

"It doesn't matter where." Kirk could feel barriers falling in a cascade in his mind, and a recklessness galloping to the fore. He felt much better.

Diamond took on a corrective tone. "Don't you want this ship to be safe in a crisis? It won't if the crew can't perform."

Kirk's hand jerked. He wanted to point at Diamond and shout at him, but had just enough control left to suppress it. A helpless rage had found his voice, but it was still level. The combination sounded odd to his own ears. "It won't if this crew loses faith in itself and its commanders. You have manuals that cover this; I know you do."

"I'm not particularly hard nosed, Kirk, but you are far too soft."

"Discipline is more nuanced than you seem to realize. In practice," Kirk said. "I drive this crew beyond their capabilities far too often. When we must. But I don't ever do it without reason. If I do, I deserve to lose their faith. I don't understand what's unclear about that."

Uhura relaxed and so did Kirk.

Diamond looked down at the padd. "I want to run the torpedo crews today. Make up for the slow phasers."

Anger had full hold of Kirk. He felt hot in his uniform.

"You are in charge," Kirk said. He didn't look at anyone as he retook his seat.