Chapter 2: No Light, No Light

Disclaimer: Still nope.

Warning: Triggers for major character death and heart-wrenching moments of sorrow. Implied abuse, non-con, etc.

Gonna do this chapter a little different with the lyrics. They'll be grouped together instead of one line at a time, and have been slightly chopped up. It'll make sense. Trust me.


You are the hole in my head
You are the space in my bed
You are the silence in between
What I thought and what I said

Kirk couldn't stop thinking about what he did as the starship flew across space, returning to Earth with the rescued humans who would never be whole again. The crew tried to make them feel comfortable, assimilate back to reality, but the slaves needed more time. Was this a dream? A hallucination? What new hell was this, to be given freedom so suddenly? Was that planet truly destroyed, along with its cruel inhabitants?

The crew noticed the looks the slaves gave former captain James Kirk. He was separate from them, distinctly different. A traitor. He grieved for Khan and they hated him for it. The starship captain tried to get him to explain why, holding private conferences in his quarters, sitting with him during meals, treating him like part of the crew. It was odd, being treated as an equal after everything he went through, after what he did. The captain tried to ignore it, but even he could see the unsettling tremors racking the slaves.

Kirk didn't speak on the way back to Earth. He took the time to prepare himself, acclimate himself, give his mind the right to live through his horrors and sort them out. By the time they arrived, he was ready to tell his story. At least, he hoped he was. His crew was gone, his ship was gone, and he was gone. There was nothing left of him, but he persevered. He had to, in order to honor their memories, to honor what they fought so desperately for, and to make up for his betrayal.

A tribunal was called shortly after the dust settled, with Starfleet ambassadors deeming him the only one qualified to explain exactly what happened on that slave planet. They tried talking to some of the other slaves and got nowhere. Either they didn't remember, or refused to. No matter how much he thought he was ready, he knew it wouldn't be easy.

"Look, we all know this was a difficult time for everyone involved. We understand there are some things you don't want to tell us or can't explain. We know the basic concept of what went down, but…a first-hand account…we need to know what these people went through. You're the only one who can tell us, captain." The admiral explained. They were all sitting in a circle, looking at Kirk expectantly. The captain who saved him, who looked up to him, sat closest to him. He gave a reassuring expression, squeezing his shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Kirk began. "The Enterprise was charged to investigate the disappearances of Starfleet ambassadors who were missing for several years. We located their last known coordinates and stumbled upon…the planet." The planet he refused to call by name, distancing himself from the horror. He never saw Ambassador Riley again, the one person whose name he would always remember but never truly know, the one person who could have empathized with him. Who knows, maybe she would've thought him a traitor as well. He assumed she was dead, hoped she wasn't still living in that hell. "My crew was ambushed and I found myself among the enemy, made into a slave for the market. To this day, I do not remember the events leading up to that moment. I had no idea what happened to my crew and what was going on. We had no information of these operations and assumed the area was deserted. From that point on…"

He realized then it was the last time he ever saw his crew, gave them a command, or saw a friendly face smiling back at him. He didn't even remember what his last words were to them. Did he tell Spock to stay behind and take over should he fail? Did he give Bones a hard time for wanting to protect him from the unknown dangers of a mystery planet? Did Uhura beg to come along in order to communicate with any alien species? What were the last words Scotty uttered in his tantalizing accent? When was the last time Chekov chirped out "Keptin on ze bridge!" as he entered through the doors?

It was so fast, the way it happened, the life he thought he knew ripped away from him.

"You don't have to go into detail, son." The admiral prompted.

Kirk looked down, closing his eyes as he struggled to keep his composure. He couldn't think of his crew now. The tribunal was waiting, staring at him warily, as if he would break just like the rest of the slaves. But you couldn't destroy what was already broken. Should he tell them everything? About Tentacles, about Khan, about his escape attempts which only left him in despair?

You are the night-time fear
You are the morning when it's clear
When it's over you will start
You're my head, you're my heart

"You said you know what was going on, sir. I want to tell you what you don't know." Kirk finally spoke up. He was resolute this time. "I stumbled upon Ambassador Riley, one of the missing Federation members I was sent to find." The group looked on intently, listening with stunned expressions. "She was not hopeful about escape, nor did she believe she would ever integrate back into normal human society. Some advice was shared before we were separated. It was the first and last time I ever saw her. I never made contact with any of the others. Due to my knowledge of the slave market system, they were most likely sold off to multiple alien species, scattered throughout the galaxy, and are most likely, at this point, dead. The survival rate was low, depending on which master a slave was sold to."

They looked uncomfortable, shifting in their seats. Some were taking notes, but stopped to put a hand over their mouths. Faces drained of blood, hands shaking, they had no way to measure the depth of true pain without first-hand experience. Kirk kept on speaking, afraid to stop and be silenced forever.

"I met Khan there." Gasps and shocked expressions met his determined features. "I questioned his presence on a planet so far away from our system after having supposedly been put back into cryosleep. When he didn't explain, I asked him for aid because of our shared history, but he refused. I was sold off to—,"

"There's no need to explain—," one officer began, holding up a hand. He looked ill.

"You knew Khan was there the whole time? You tried to ally with that bastard?!" another shouted, rising.

"—an alien species I had no previous encounters with, nor would I care to see that race again—," Kirk continued despite the commotion.

"Calm down, please, and let him speak his testimony." The captain beside him urged.

"—and was subjected to unspeakable horrors no human should ever have to encounter. I was left nearly mute and beyond broken, physically as well as mentally, and to this day I cannot handle the sight of any tentacled creature, nor can I handle the sound of gurgles or robotic voices."

The ferocity with which he spoke silenced the protestations. They stared at him, open-mouthed. He was clenching the hat he was given when issued a new uniform, breathing hard, knuckles white.

"It was Khan who rescued me." he looked up at the man who was shouting, glaring him down. No one commented on the eerie similarity between his cold eyes and Khan's. "He had been waiting for the right moment, because he was a member of the committee who ran the slave market with some influence over them. He bought me from my former owner, as per our agreement."

They looked frightened and alarmed at his anger. They assumed it was directed at Khan. They were wrong. "You may think he's a monster, just as bad as those…creatures, but if it weren't for him I would be dead by now. He wasn't always the nicest master, but I grew to care for him. So don't you dare speak ill of him in my presence." His teeth were clenched, voice a growl, eyes startling vicious. There was silence for a moment and he took the time to compose himself again, surprising even himself with the emotions associated with such a terrible time in his life.

"I did try to escape, multiple times, but their security prevented any such incursions. Again, Khan allowed me to live because of the sway he held over them. He took me to the market with him, he let me see the city, and I became known as his pet." He took a deep breath. "That's why the other slaves act differently around me. I never once tried to help them, never once tried to stop what was going on. Because I couldn't. Even though Khan and I were on relatively good terms, he would have never helped me. He had his own plan and refused to deviate from it."

Kirk told them everything. They didn't like it, but he spoke anyway, to the point where some of them grew sick and had to leave. It was painful to tell it all, even more painful to see their reactions, but he promised himself he would get it all out and let them judge him later. He was prepared for the consequences.

He was already dead inside, what more could they possibly do to him?


And I'd do anything to make you stay

Tell me what you want me to say

Khan opened his eyes. The space next to him on the bed was empty. He arose, getting dressed and ready for the new day, before exiting his quarters. The swoosh of the door reminded him of home. Walking down the corridors, he nodded to members of his crew, happy to see their faces flushed with color instead of frozen within a cryotube. He strode onto the bridge with a purpose, admiring the detail of the consoles. This was where he belonged.

"Ready when you are, sir." His first officer told him, handing over a PADD. Khan accepted it, looking over the final procedures check-off list as he sat in the captain's chair.

It was all part of the plan. With those silly little aliens out of the way, thanks to Starfleet, he was able to awaken his crew and prepare the newly restored Vengeance for its destined purpose. Biding his time on that planet, allying himself with the slavers, was the only way to ensure his crew's survival. The ship was slightly damaged due to the planet's eruption, despite being tucked away within a neighboring asteroid belt, but it was nothing his crew couldn't handle. It was the best feeling in the world to be sitting in this chair, watching his crew work like they used to do, knowing nothing would get in their way this time.

There was just one small issue to take care of first, one part of the plan added later when he escaped the planet's death.

"All sections prepare for launch. Destination: Earth." He commanded. His crew nodded in acknowledgement, getting into position. The pilot pushed on the throttle, and the starship went warp.


Through the crowded islands crying out at me
In your place there were a thousand other faces

Kirk was given the choice to be reinstated as an acting captain, with a new ship and crew—under the condition that he go through therapy to assess his state of mind and ability to captain another ship—or become a civilian. He struggled for months—keeping a close eye on the time flying by, several calendars adorning his new home—on the decision. It wouldn't be the same with a new ship and crew, he would never be able to bond with these people the way he did with the members of his Enterprise, but it was all he knew. When Christopher Pike told him to join the Federation, he was stuck in the middle of Iowa with nowhere to go and nothing to do. Going back now would be a waste. He would wither away in those corn fields, unable to face his mother's harsh gaze. Starfleet was his home.

"You've had a hard life."

Kirk glanced up slowly at the person chosen to ascertain his mental preparedness for reality. A stoic, controlled face. Penetrating eyes. Steady hands. Someone who knew what pain meant, but never had the satisfaction to endure it.

"Is that supposed to be a question or a statement." He replied.

A quirk of those thin lips betrayed the psychiatrist. "You seem very…well-adjusted, despite what you survived."

"Who said I survived." Kirk bit out, voice like gravel. He stared back into that calculating gaze, watching the cogs work in the man's brain as it tried to figure him out. He wasn't trying to be difficult, but he wasn't going to hide anything, either. It wouldn't benefit either of them if he pretended to be fine after all this time.

"Physically, your health is superior to that of the other slaves. Your records show a more energetic background, one which you have not yet reached after your rescue, but I can only assume you are doing far better than when you were in captivity."

"You say that as if I were an animal in a zoo."

"Were you ever caged?"

Kirk swallowed. Flashes of the market, of the enclosures the newly acquired slaves were put in to show off to potential buyers.

A less amused, more empathetic expression crossed the therapist's face. "I see." He wrote something in the device perched atop his lap. "I apologize for triggering anything. I only heard rumors. You must understand, I need to know what happened to you in order to assess, and therefore, help you."

"I'll tell you everything, if you can keep your stomach."

An almost condescending smile, hiding a spark of fascination, was the other man's reply. "I've heard many things in my time. You think you're the only person to go out into space and come back scarred?"

"No. I've seen damage among my crew, and others. I know I'm not special in that sense."

"But it was a certain kind of hell you lived through, wasn't it?"

Kirk nodded. A little bit of heaven, a little bit of hell, a jumbled mess of chaos in the whole. His experience was indeed unique, as were his worries, but he was no fool to think he was the only one who felt pain.

"They want me to determine if you are unscathed," the therapist said after a moment. "Of course, we both know the scars you carry. What we don't know is whether you can hide them well enough to do your duty, or are healed enough to carry on." Eyebrows raised in expectation. "Do you know the answer to this question?"

Kirk knew. He wasn't ready, and would never be. What was done couldn't be erased, forgiven, or forgotten. It would plague him unto his death bed. It would haunt him in dreams, waking moments of memories, and in every living thought within his head.

"What do you think?" Kirk asked.

"I think you are strong." The therapist paused. "However, I also believe you are broken. A damaged thing can be repaired, but only if it wants to be. Sometimes shattered goods are strengthened in the aftermath—what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and all that—but sometimes the material is no longer malleable, and needs help if it is to regain what it once was."

"Do you think I can ever be repaired?"

"Do you want to?" the therapist countered. "You've tried, I can see it. You may not be the same James T. Kirk whispered about by new and old Starfleet members, but you act like it. Clinging to what you once knew has saved your life, preserved your sanity, but you are barely hanging on by a thread. You need more than just pretending."

"And what do you suggest?" Kirk asked. He wondered if this person could truly help him, or if he was a lost cause. It was true, he fought hard to claw his way back from the abyss, but he wasn't at the top just yet. There was still some work to do.

"Try just living. Feel what you need to feel. Breathe. Let yourself deal with your trauma, don't fight it or dismiss it. The only way to pull this off is to combat your fears, slay your demons, and put it all to rest on your own terms."

"That doesn't sound like any therapy I've heard of before. So, no shock treatments, no hypnotizing, no ink blots?"

"You've had enough shock therapy for more than one lifetime, Jim." The man said softly. There was sympathy in his eyes. "I am not going to force you. I'm not going to do anything. You can talk to me, if you want. We can stare at each other, or blank walls, for hours on end. You can retreat within yourself to do battle, forge a castle within your mind and find shelter there. You will be doing all the work, not I. I dare not take credit for any progress you make, aside from a slight push in the right direction."

Stunned, yet relieved, Kirk let out a deep breath. This was exactly what he needed.

And he hated the man for giving it to him.


I was disappearing in plain sight
Heaven help me I need to make it right

While things never truly got back to normal, he found himself slowly relaxing back into his role as captain. His duties rarely involved away missions, instead he attended meetings with the ambassadors to aid them in finding new galaxies and planets to explore, gathering intelligence reports on each new alien race encountered. No one pointed out how unique his information was, having dealt with some of these species within the slave market. No one said anything about his past. He was grateful, but lonely. He missed Bones, the one man he could talk to about anything. He missed Scotty's enthusiastic behavior toward engineering in starships, he missed Chekov's cute little Russian accent and energetic youth. He missed Spock's logical reasoning, the way he misunderstood common jokes and always complicated simple issues with his Vulcan upbringing. He missed Uhura's sarcastic comments and sass while she insulted him in five different languages.

But most of all he missed his ship. The Enterprise was the one thing he could always come back to, his home among the stars. He remembered every nook and cranny, every corridor, the sounds she made, the warp core's precise positioning and structure. He would often find himself in the wrong section of his new ship, thinking he was back on the Enterprise. When he walked aimlessly, he found himself searching for the med bay or engineering. The bridge was different. The chair was different.

But it was better than wallowing in a bar, drinking the rest of his life away and fucking anything that walked by. For the first few weeks he practically lived in the small pubs near his apartment, but his libido was stunted. When he tried to flirt with a female, he was reminded of Teeth. When he saw an obviously alien species, he flinched, thinking of Tentacles. When he saw a man, a handsome man, a darkly dressed man, any human male within his vicinity, he thought of Khan.

Of course, he thought of Khan a lot. When he dreamed, when he showered, when he observed the newest recruits training, when he walked past the damage still being reconstructed due to the augment's destruction…

His face was everywhere, phantom touches lingered on his skin, and that voice was always whispering in his ear. Kirk couldn't sleep. New nightmares plagued him, Khan's brutal death flashing before his eyes. When he awoke, the space next to him on the bed was empty.


You want a revelation
You want to get it right
And it's a conversation
I just can't have tonight

Kirk knew the minute the alarms went off. They echoed his rescue, bringing back memories of his final moments with Khan. Federation officers scrambled, horrified at the sight of the starship they thought had vanished, destroyed, never to return. Nobody knew what to do, what they were facing, what to expect. Nobody except Kirk. As soon as he heard the word Vengeance he ran.

Khan was back.

Khan wanted revenge.

Starfleet headquarters was filled with screams as the attacks came. The city of San Francisco was desolated. There was only one place to go. Some officers, including the captain who was his only friend in the world, followed him. They knew, instinctively, where he was going and what he would do. They would either stop him…or join him. Kirk wasn't sure which outcome to expect, nor did he know how he would actually react, but he knew one thing. He had to go. He had to see his master one more time.


Khan walked out of the ship with some of his crew, who were armed and immediately began taking out Federation members around them. He strode casually, trusting in his crew to cover him, occasionally knocking someone out of the way. He kept his eyes on the place where they first met, unofficially. He knew Kirk would be there waiting for him. He entered the building and walked past the confused guards, smiling at the way they ran around like headless chickens. Did they really think it was that easy to get rid of him? He was better at everything, even dying…even surviving.

"He just walked in! We don't know what to do, we need backup a.s.a.p.!" a guard yelled into the com device before his face contorted, dropping to the ground. Khan stood in the middle of the room, instantly surrounded by more guards and Federation officers, pointing their weapons at him. He was calm, unfazed by the harmless threat. He was here for one reason.


You want a revelation
Some kind of resolution
You are the revelation

Kirk ran into the room, followed by the others. He stopped when he saw Khan standing there. His breathing was abnormal, gasping for air, but soon slowed. He took a few steps forward, movements precise, eyes focused on the man before him.

"It's your call, sir." One of the guards told him, indicating the weapons pointed at Khan. The group looked at him, waiting. He captain who came to his rescue, refusing to leave his side since that day, put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You can do it, Kirk." He whispered, putting a phaser in his hand.

Kirk considered pulling the trigger for all of two seconds. He knew he couldn't go through with it. He almost lost Khan once and it was the biggest regret of his miserable life. No matter what the man did to him, Kirk would always love him.

"Give us a minute." He said in a low tone. The guards glanced to each other but backed down, exiting the room. The other captain remained only to give Kirk a small nod before leaving. Khan and Kirk stared at each other in silence, the words left unspoken hanging in the air between them.

And I'd do anything to, to make you stay
Tell me what you want me to say

"You should leave now, before I change my mind. Just go, and no one will come after you." Kirk spoke, voice strained.

"Come with me." Khan answered, his deep voice eliciting goose bumps on Kirk's arms. It was confident, calm, smooth.

"Why?" Kirk asked, breathless, curious as to what he would say. Would he go as a prisoner, or as a lover?

"We're going to populate a colony, and I want you by my side." Kirk realized what Khan meant: His crew was awakened, his original plan back in action. "I was always going to make this happen, Kirk, you know that. Everything I did was for my family, every second moved toward this inevitable conclusion. The only thing to change was you."

Was this a confession?

"What would I be to you? Still a slave?" Kirk croaked. He was considering Khan's offer. He was torn, unable to function properly in regular society ever again, but knowing Khan's full intentions. He knew if he went with Khan he'd lose everything, but if he stayed at Starfleet he'd just be a shell of his former self. It was the same feeling he dealt with when asked to become a civilian or rejoin Starfleet.

Die alone, or die surrounded?

Try to survive, or allow himself to wither away?

There would be no going back from this moment. His final decision would either end or begin with three little words.

But would you leave me
If I told you what I've done
And would you leave me
If I told you what I've become

Either way he would lose, he realized. If Khan got away, his career with Starfleet would be over. Everyone would know Kirk refused to kill him, he would become a traitor not only to the human race but also of the Federation. They would never let him live it down. He would have to flee, hunted down like a dog to come to an eventual end. Running, forever running. It didn't suit him.

If he killed Khan, he would be declared a hero of the universe. They would promote him, honor him, and celebrate his victory. But they wouldn't be able to ignore the pain in his eyes, the regret he would feel. He didn't want to be the one to put Khan down. He couldn't. Life would be needless, unnecessary, if he took out the one thing that made him feel. Khan was a monster, but he was Kirk's monster. He would sooner put a bullet in his own head than see the man fall.

Khan took a step forward. "What do you want to be to me?" he asked, softly. "Tell me how to convince you." A hand reached up to cup Kirk's cheek, fingers gentle as they rubbed the skin.

"Tell me what I want to hear. You know exactly how to convince me. If you truly wanted me with you, it wouldn't be hard." Kirk answered in a whisper.

"You ask for the one thing I simply cannot give."

'Cause it's so easy
To sing it to a crowd
But it's so hard, my love
To say it to you, all alone

"Then how do you expect me to believe you?" Kirk asked. Why couldn't Khan just say what he wanted to hear?

"Kirk." Khan took a step forward, closing the distance between them and bringing his other hand up to hold Kirk's face. "What do you want? I won't force you into anything you're unwilling to do. I want you to make the decision." His voice was tender for once. His eyes were caring and warm. There was no deception or manipulation in the curve of Khan's mouth. He truly wanted Kirk to decide. Whether it was a way to escape any consequences of such a decision, or because he actually cared about what his pet wanted, Kirk couldn't tell.

Jim thought about what he truly wanted. He knew the decision, because he made it a long time ago. When he realized his crew was dead, the only thing he ever wanted was to join them. If Khan couldn't love him, there was no point in carrying on this charade.

"I want you to end it." He said, looking into Khan's eyes. "I want you to complete your revenge."

Khan's expression tightened, along with the hands pressing against the side of Kirk's face. "Are you sure? Do you know what you're asking?"

"You asked me what I wanted. This is what I want." It was their last chance. Khan could admit it right here and now, truly end his revenge, and Kirk would go with him anywhere. Or he could finish what he started all those years ago.

Khan sighed. Kirk's gaze never wavered. One last chaste kiss was placed on his forehead, lingering as both their eyes closed to savor the moment, before Khan's grip was repositioned. He met no resistance as his hands moved, twisting, and the crack of breaking bone resounded throughout the room, the loudest sound he ever heard.

Kirk's body crumpled to the ground.

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes

I never knew daylight could be so violent

Regret filled him the instant his hands snapped the slender neck of his once lover. He wanted to turn back time to see those bright blue eyes, alive, staring at him again. In that moment he knew who truly achieved revenge in the end. In that moment Khan realized he loved Captain James Tiberius Kirk.

A revelation in the light of day
You can choose what stays and what fades away

His crew found him kneeling over the body, tears dripping from his eyes, a weapon in his hands. They reached out to him. He looked at them longingly. This was what he wanted all along: his crew back, his family restored, and Kirk out of the way. But the price of his desires was too high, even for him. He contemplated joining his lover in oblivion. He would only carry out his plans half-heartedly from now on. What did it prove? He turned once more to his people, holding their gazes. They were his family. He would find solace in their presence, and after a time…he would get over it.

And I'd do anything to make you stay
No light, no light
Tell me what you want me to say


Author's Note: Had to see that coming. I told you there would be no happy ending. But don't hate me, my lovelies, there is still more! Of course, an epilogue is in order, and…who knows what else? Please let me know what you thought, as well as any suggestions for future pieces. The story is never over.~