I apologize for this being so short. It was a good place to stop. It took me forever to think that this chapter was good. Would have been out sooner otherwise.

Spock approached Uhura the moment McCoy had finished evaluating her. She suffered some bruising, but overall she was fine physically. McCoy had not been able to get her to talk, and he hadn't tried too hard, dealing with his own problems with addition to everyone else's. She sat around the fire, thermal blanket around her in an attempt to steady her nerves. The ensign wasn't going to need it anymore.

"Are you well, Nyota?" Spock asked softly, settling into a spot beside her. It was obvious that she was not, but humans always seemed to prefer asking obvious questions in situations like these.

She was quiet for some time, not doing anything except burying her face in her arms. Then she looked up, her chin resting on her knees. "It is my fault that the captain was pushed that far."

"Nyota, you have done nothing─"

"But it was Spock. I hesitated. I mean the academy teaches you how to fire a phaser and how to defend yourself, but its different here. Shooting a phaser is different than slitting someone's throat. I mean . . ." her eyes flickered over to the now dead ensign, and her slender form shuttered. "Shooting a phaser is so much cleaner and impersonal compared to . . . that," she motioned to the ensign. "I could feel the guy's heartbeat under me, and when it came to it, when he moved for the phaser, I just couldn't take that last step. I just couldn't kill him like that. I'm not a soldier. I'm an officer, and I can protect myself, but I'm not a soldier. I joined Starfleet to discover and protect, not this.

"So the Captain made the decision for me and killed him to protect me."

Spock did not say that he believed Jim would have killed him anyway even if the phaser wasn't reached for, and the knowledge of that was disturbing to say the least. He had never seen the captain act so cold, not even when giving the order to blast away the Narada.

"Have you talked to him?" she asked.

"I had sensed Jim wished to be alone."

"Doesn't mean you should let him." She peered up at him from her ball. "We made an agreement you know. That I'd only allow you to break up with me if you told Jim how you felt. Avoiding him when you can isn't exactly how you go about confessing to someone. I had thought you told him before we left with the whole awkwardness between you two, but overhearing your conversation with the doctor, I'm guessing not."

"As I understand it, it is considered impolite to eavesdrop by human customs."

She snorted. "Not like there's anywhere else to go or do while we're stuck gere, but you need to tell him."

"There is no point in revealing my . . . fondness for him when it will not be reciprocated."

"You don't know that," she said gently.

Spock did not wish to speak of this. It was bad enough the doctor was questioning him. He did not wish for Nyota to add to the situation; however, her prying seemed to pull her out of the shell she had built around herself since the attack. "The captain is not interested in males. All his previous conquests has always been female."

"Maybe you'll be his first," she offered. "He's t'hy'la, right? No one else will do?"

"No one else will do," he repeated, so quietly he wondered if he even spoke at all even if he knew he did. "He is t'hy'la."

"Then let me give you a hint on how to woe humans. Jim's had enough time to calm down. Right now, he needs someone, and most likely he'll turn everyone away but you, as always."

"Nyota," he whispered "Please do not─"

"Go to him Spock. Trust me. I'm a communications expert."

Closing his eyes, he finally gave in. "Indeed you are."

Jim hadn't moved from his spot against the rock, staring off into the distance with the phaser clutched in his hand so tightly his knuckles were white. He looked tired and worn, the corners of his eyes were scrunched up with pain, and anxiety radiated off of him.

Spock took a seat beside him, vaguely surprised that his captain had not been startled or lashed out at his presence as wound up as he was. He could feel it. Jim was ready to crack with the right pressure. This was neither Captain Kirk nor was it the man who had shot down their attackers an hour before. This Kirk seemed lost, conflicted, and afraid, just holding on by the skin of his teeth.

They sat in complete silence with only the sounds of the wind between them.

As the Vulcan sat, wondering what he should say, Kirk spoke first. "How is Uhura doing?"

"Unsettled, but she will recover with time."

"That's good," the human hesitated. After some time he said, "I can't tell you what you want to know." If possible he curled into himself more, closing off to Spock.

"I had said that I would not ask unless it became crucial to our survival. It has."

Jim shook his head. "I can't tell you. I just can't."

"Jim, I will not say you owe me an explanation, but even I can tell that your mind is in chaos from this without touching you. If there is someone else you rather speak to than me . . ." Spock trailed off.

The laughter was a bit unexpected. It was humorless and empty. "Who would I talk to? You're all scared of me right?"

"No one fears you, Jim. At the very least, trust that I do not fear you. I am willing to listen."

"No! You don't get it!" He shot up to his feet and started pacing, gesturing wildly with his hands. He was starting to crack. "If I tell you, then you'll never look at me the same again. None of you will!"

"Jim, no matter what happened in your past; it will not change my opinion of you."

Kirk laughed again, this time it was almost hysterical. His body was shaking when he stopped his pacing, and he turned his cold, blue eyes to Spock, looking him straight in the eye. "Are you so sure about that?"

Spock didn't hesitate. "Affirmative."

Jim's eyes narrowed. "I'm a murderer Spock."

"What had happened tonight was not─"

"My first kill was when I was fourteen years old. I shot him in the back, and I kept on shooting when he was down until his body was filled with holes."

Jim waited for Spock to say something. The Vulcan seemed to have trouble understanding what was being said to him. It was not a surprise. Not only was his stay on Tarsus not in his file, if he was a murder as he had put it, there should be no way he could join Starfleet never the less be captain.

"I believe you must have had a reason to do so Jim," Spock said after some time.

"You really think so huh? Even after a month later I snuck into a man's tent and strangled and decapitated him with piano wire? Or a few days after that when I seduced a man so I could impale him on a spear I made with my two hands?" Jim's voice was almost a growl. "Can you still respect me now Spock?"

The Vulcan narrowed his eyes a fraction. "If you have truly done these things, then I believe there is a reason."

"My reason," Jim barked, "is that they had what I wanted, and so I killed them to take it."

Don't trust, push them away. If they die, it won't hurt so much. It won't hurt them so much if you die. Protect yourself. Protect them. "Whatever it takes to survive. That is the cardinal rule out here Spock."

"Jim, you must calm yourself. I do not believe you will take a life carelessly, and I believe it has something to do with the fungus we discovered 1.83 days ago."

Jim grabbed a fistful of Spock's shirt, yanking him forward. "Then you're an idiot. You know nothing about me. About how much I've really done."

"Then tell me," Spock challenged. His eyes softened. "I am here for you, Jim."

Too afraid. Won't look at me the same if he knew. I'm broken.

The captain faltered. How was he to tell Spock the truth? He trusted Spock and had come to rely on him and his friendship. He never wanted to let Spock see this side of him. He never wanted Spock to lose the respect he held for his captain. His whole body shook violently. How could he not tell him if he wanted to keep the Vulcan alive?

"Jim . . . tell me." Spock whispered, placing his hands cautiously on his yellow clad shoulders.

"I . . . I . . ." His breathing accelerated, feeling the symptoms of a panic attack sneak up on him, and he couldn't stop it. There was no choice. Survival came first. He had to tell him about Tarsus, but the words would not leave his throat. Say it. Come on say it!

"He was on Tarsus IV." Jim's head whipped around so fast there was an audible crack which he paid no mind to as his attention was fully on McCoy.

Spock felt a mixture of emotions coming off Jim: anger, fear, and relief. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder and the anxiety dispersed by a large amount. It was like the fight was drained right out of him. "Bones," Jim said wearily.

"During the massacre, the kid was there." McCoy continued, looking grim.

Jim finally released Spock's shirt, looking at the ground and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

"Tarsus IV . . . was that not the colony that suffered a food shortage approximately 13.58 years ago?"

"Yeah, but there was a lot that report didn't tell to the public, wasn't there Jim."

Jim only nodded, sinking back to the ground, closing himself off.

McCoy watched him worriedly, but did not approach. Not with the way, Kirk still clutched the phaser in his hands like it was his only safe line. He was not naïve enough to believe that Kirk wouldn't turn on him in this state. He wasn't Spock who could approach Jim silently. and Jim would know he was there and believe he meant no harm. If he approached, it would startle his friend and that was the last thing his captain needed.

"Captain, would you please describe the events that happened on the colony known as Tarsus IV?" Spock asked quietly.

McCoy had heard bits and pieces from Jim. He never went into detail about the events though thanks to his ethics class at the academy, he did see some aftermath photos. Not even that amount of information could have prepared him for the whole story. Jim told him of the massacre and how he had escaped, of his life scavenging for food everyday while hiding from the guards with his aunt, how bad the living conditions really were, how a lot of the people died from inhaling too many of the spores from the fungus.

When Jim spoke of the events, he was detached from himself, speaking in monotone as if he was nothing more than an outsider. It was probably the only way he could get through telling the story, but the swings from stoicism and absolute rage was concerning.

"And what of your aunt?"

McCoy was close to smacking Spock for asking that question when it was quite obvious that she had died on the planet, especially when his captain drew himself into a ball.

"She was raped and killed in front of me two guards while I hid," he whispered. "If I had not been with her, she would have survived. Joanna would still be alive."

Survivor guilt, McCoy thought. He almost winced at the revelation of what happened to his aunt. Jim had never mentioned her name or how she died before, just that she was with him on the planet.

Suddenly Jim's reaction back at the academy made sense.

"So that's her," the young man stood behind the young doctor at the holo of a cute three year old girl with bright blonde hair and green eyes holding up a badly drawn picture that consisted mostly of colorful scribbles. "Look Bone's she looks just like you. Got your scowl and everything."

"Ha ha very funny, brat. She was just in a bad mood when I took the holo is all. Joanna got scolded by her mother earlier that day. Some boy pushed her down on the playground."

Jim tensed and his eyes had gone steely for a moment. When he spoke again his voice was tight. "I hope he got what was coming to him."

Leonard had not roomed with Jim long. It had only been a month since they met on the shuttle, but they had become friends quickly even though they didn't know much about one another's personal lives before the academy. This was the first time that he had ever seen such a dark look on his friend's face. He wasn't naïve. He knew something was off after a week of rooming with him. Jim always had food on him readily available, including food rations hidden away in various locations, people rarely had the ability to sneak up on him, very aware of his surroundings to a scary extent, and he didn't believe in defeat. They were great traits for an officer, a soldier, but wasn't that why they were at the academy? To learn to be one?

"I said she was the one scolded didn't I? She bit him before kicking him. Sent the kid crying back to his mom." McCoy couldn't help a smug smile escape. "That's my girl."

Jim relaxed and gave a tentative smile back, looking almost sad. "Yeah, Joanna's a good name. She'll grow up big and strong.

It would be another two semesters before the ethics class they took together that gave McCoy that story. While he had a few guesses about his roommate's odd traits and behaviors, he didn't question nor did he care to look into it. Jim seemed well adjusted and happy. If the young man didn't want to share then he wasn't going to force him.

When the ethics professor turned to a slide of the destroyed farms on Tarsus before mentioning what the day's seminar would entail, at first, the doctor didn't think twice about Jim's stiff posture; that was until he didn't relax after a few minutes. There were few slides and the ethics debate was mostly about whether Kodos would have made the right decision if help had not arrived on time.

In Jim's defense, he managed to sit through the first half an hour before he stood, shaking, and mumbling to himself. He almost tripped in his haste to get out of the classroom. The professor called after him, telling him he would fail the course if he did not sit through the seminar, but he didn't listen. It was subtle, but McCoy saw the symptoms. He got up and followed him.

Jim must have gone into a dead run the moment he hit the doorway because he was out of sight when McCoy left the classroom. Acting on a guess, he decided to check the closest bathroom. Jim was on the floor in the midst of a severe panic attack. His whole body was shaking, his skin clammy, his hands were clutching his chest, and he was hyperventilating.

Without hesitating, Leonard locked the door and cursed himself for not having his medical kit with him. All he could really do was try to calm him and wait for him to ride out the attack. He knelt beside Jim, taking his hand to offer the younger man an anchor to reality. "Breathe, Kid. Take deep breaths. That's right. Good job. Breathe."

Jim took a few breathes then shook his head. "She got it wrong. She's wrong," he choked out, still trying to fight back the panic. "God, she's wrong. She doesn't know anything."

"She got what wrong, Jim?" McCoy asked in a calm voice he used with his patients that wasn't Jim.

"It was pure panic. The guards, they turned on us. They worried about their own survival. People turned on one another." Jim closed his eyes as if trying to block out the memories.

McCoy's eyes went wide at what Jim was saying. "Dear God, you were there."

Jim rocked himself for several minutes. As the panic attack started to wear off, Jim finally nodded. He looked tired and still on edge, but he added in a small voice, "That girl, the one on the last slide, she died two days before help arrive. I know I couldn't do anything, but the way the professor spoke about her. Like nothing else happened to her besides starving to death. That starving was the most anyone had to worry about, that after the massacre no one had to worry about being murdered anymore, I couldn't take it."

It took another fifteen minutes for Jim to pick himself off the floor and act like nothing happened. Jim did not go to the ethic class the rest of the week and after some interference from Pike, it didn't affect his grade, though the ethics teacher looked at him with pity from then on.

The only clue that the event even happened was the nightmares Jim suffered afterwards. After a particularly bad one that left Jim drenched in sweat and shaking, McCoy announced that Joanna was allowed to stay with him for the weekend. At the announcement, the young man smiled for real, the first time in two weeks. Though Kirk had never met her, he was strangely protective over her.

By the end of the weekend, Joanna had taken to calling the young cadet, Uncle Jim, which left said cadet beaming and the nightmares dwindled, becoming a thing of the past. It was as if Joanna had given him some closure. McCoy couldn't ask at that time. He only got a little more information after that, usually when Jim was drunk off his ass he couldn't tell up from down. Hearing the story in more detail, he was surprised that Jim only had the occasional nightmare and panic attack. Hell, by all accounts it's amazing he didn't end up a psychopath, dead, or worse. The fact he kept it together this long being on this hellhole was another story, and suddenly, it became very difficult to blame Jim for killing the two men and stealing Luca away. It was still wrong, but it was no longer black and white, especially to Jim. Not when he was acting on instincts that kept him alive before.

Spock stayed as impassive as ever. What was going on in that Vulcan head of his, McCoy wondered. It was always hard to read him when it came to Jim. Dark eyes glanced at him then back to Jim. Understanding, McCoy got up and left.

Whether Jim noticed his friend's departure or not was up for debate as he made no move or sound the moment he stopped talking. But it left him and Spock alone again.

"Do you get it now? I am just like them," Jim whispered. "I didn't feel anything when I killed them."

Spock said nothing. There was nothing he could say that would assure Jim. He took Jim's hand in his. All he could do was hold his hand, knowing that Jim probably did not understand the meaning of such action.

Jim looked at the pale hand holding his, his eyes wide with surprise. He shook his head just slightly and squeezed back, allowing himself to take comfort in the very human gesture.

"We can't stay here, Spock. We have to find a way to get off planet or bring the shields around the planet down."

"I agree. Any plans of when, Captain?" With the use of Jim's formal title, Spock withdrew his hand. The human found himself missing the warmth already.

"Night is best to travel, but we can't wait another thirteen hours. The moment there's light, we'll keep moving."

"Understood. I will relay your order to the others." Spock stood, tugging down his shirt as he did so.

Spock turned to leave, but stopped at the sound of Jim's voice. "And Spock . . . thanks."

Spock turned around enough to look at the human a small smile on his lips. "No thanks are necessary, Jim."

Jim spent another two hours outside their shelter before he joined the rest of them. Uhura was asleep, but his best friends were still awake. McCoy was watching him with a crucial eye, most likely trying to see if he was okay. Spock kept his focus on the communication device, trying to see what could work and what they would need to make it work.

He really loved his crew; still, he couldn't look either of them in the eyes, settling down to wait another hour for the sun to come up.

I am not happy with this chapter, thus why it took so long to go up. I don't know why I'm not happy with it, but I'm not. I'll warn you guys if I decide to change it. Review and share your thoughts.