Happy Thanksgiving, or day after. Whatever. My Thanksgiving sucked as much as I predicted. I made food for one but there was enough for 3 or 4 so I expected left overs. Except, my roommate ate it all so no left overs or even seconds for me. The other roommate got pissed at me for using her damn dishes which equated to two plates. Neither helped me clean the apartment, do the dishes, or cook. In fact, when I cooked, one said, "wow you have a lot of dishes to do," and I'm thinking "you're eating the food fucker. In fact you ate almost all of it so why don't you do the damn dishes." As you can see I have some lingering anger issues which I used for this chapter. If I'm going to suffer, someone has to have a shittier life than me, cause apparently Thanksgiving means, that shit is mine don't touch and give me food. But you didn't come to hear me write a diary entry. Maybe Jabari's, but not mine. Onward to the chapter. (which was self edited 'cause while I don't have a life, my betas do)
It was dark outside. The overcast of clouds overhead blocked out enough sun to almost simulate night. The rainy season was approaching, and it was approaching quickly.
Jim didn't care.
He tossed his rifle to the ground, sitting beside it just outside their camp, keeping watch. He didn't pay attention to the gash in his side that was forming a puddle beneath him or the phaser burns on his arms. He just kept his stare straight ahead, listening for intruders.
"Jim."
The teen didn't react to his name, only grabbing his rifle and positioning it so he could shoot with it in a hurry.
"James," Jabari called gently as if not to startle him.
He still didn't acknowledge his partner. He just continued staring into space.
"You need rest." The older teen knelt beside him with a medkit in hand. When his dark hand grazed the fabric of his blood stained sleeve, Jim flinched away from him.
"Leave it," Jim grunted, pulling the rifle closer.
Jabari shook his head. "You're being reckless. More so than usual."
"And?"
"James."
"Don't bother. We're all going to die anyway."
Jabari stilled, his eyes narrowing. "Jim, you're just upset over what happened."
A dark laugh escaped the younger male, his hands going to his hair to push back the long dirty strands. "Did you know since I started collecting kids, 63 have joined? We've never had more than 29 at one time. So how many of them are left?" His body jerked upright. He seemed twitchy as he stared Jabari down. "I remember every single one of them, every name, every single face, how every single one of them died. I've killed 8 with my own hands. 10 have died of starvation. 7 from sickness. 6 from suicide. 19 from the guards. And lastly, the 3 I kicked out. There are only 10 left that I can protect."
Jim couldn't bring himself to recognize the soft understanding gaze directed at him even as the deep voice called his name again. He didn't, couldn't, listen.
"I never wanted this! I never wanted to be the one to carry all the weight and be in charge, but I took it. What do I have to show for it? They'll all die anyway. In fact, it's cruel for me to even keep trying to keep them alive. I'm just prolonging their suffering." His breathing was labored and his head swam. Why was he even still alive? What the hell was he fighting for? Help wouldn't arrive soon enough to save them. It was all pointless.
"So what will you do?" Jabari said offhandedly, putting the kit away. "Keep fighting? Keep putting yourself into harm's way, getting revenge against the unit who killed them? All the while hoping that one of them will get a lucky shot and finish you off?"
Jim turned his head away. It was as good as a confirmation.
"Why bother fighting then? Why don't you just stand there and let yourself get shot?" Jabari stood gracefully. "No one will stop you from killing yourself, Jim. We're all too tired to deal with anyone else's problems. So off yourself. Just don't trouble the rest of us with however you decide to go."
Jim just smiled sadly, looking back out into the distance. "Maybe I will."
Spock picked up another log to add to his steadily growing pile of fire wood. Two days had passed since Jim had left them. The tension in the group had been high. McCoy was still recovering from his illness. Though much improved, the others were wary eating anything that wasn't rations, which they would finish off later tonight.
Luca followed a small distance behind him. Since the captain's departure, the child hadn't spoken much, and the confidence he displayed whenever he was with Jim grew almost nonexistent. He stuck to Spock's side while keeping his distance simultaneously. Luca especially didn't like whenever McCoy, Decker, or Spock stared at him for any length of time. The boy would curl up into a ball in response to the attention. So, Spock in return, kept his gaze away from Luca when he could avoid it.
Luca seemed appreciative of the gesture. Several times, the child had reached out to grab his hand or shirt before pulling away at the last minute, pretending it never happened. Spock supposed it was natural for a human child to want physical comfort. Whenever Jim wasn't treating Luca like a competent survivor, Jim would hold him, sleep beside him, and pretty much act like a big brother or father to the boy when he could afford it. Somehow, Jim managed a balance of coddling the child and expecting things most wouldn't expect an adult to be able to handle. Spock wasn't naïve enough to try for that balance. He would have to be one or the other.
The child reached out again, his fingertips brushing the hem of Spock's shirt, when McCoy came stomping through the underbrush. "There you are, you blasted hobgoblin."
"Doctor McCoy, I see you are in better health today."
The doctor scowled. "Don't give me that, I know you've been avoiding me. What the hell have you been doing the past two days?! Why haven't you gone looking for Jim yet?"
"Because, Doctor McCoy, if he does not wish to be found, we will not find him," Spock said simply, raising an eyebrow in condescension.
"Goddammit, Spock! Jim's out there on his own. Do you have any idea what this place is doing to his psyche? He needs us."
"On the contrary, Doctor. I believe it us who needs him."
McCoy's expression grew thunderous, as if he wanted nothing more than to beat the Vulcan into submission. "So what? You going to leave him out there? Let him go crazy and possibly harm someone else?"
"You misunderstand me, Doctor. I was not referring to Jim or our emotional state. I believe that Jim will be able to survive much easier if we were not with him. In fact, I believe that it is our survival that is dependent on him."
It took a moment for the realization to dawn for the doctor. "You don't trust, Decker."
"I believe that he is more emotionally compromised than he is letting on, and that Jim does in fact know what he is doing despite his actions. After all, he has survived Tarsus while many others have not," Spock said.
"Then why the hell have we not gone after him?!"
Spock gave the doctor a look that shamed him into silence. They both knew why. "While we may not trust the commodore, he is still our commanding officer. Unless we can prove he is compromised, he is still in command of this mission and his orders must be followed."
"I know that." The doctor sighed wearily, rubbing his face with his hands. "But we can't just leave Jim alone either."
"I ask that you trust me, Doctor. Jim is safe."
He looked up with piercing blue eyes. "How do you know that? Some more of that Vulcan mind voodoo?"
Spock only raised an eyebrow.
"Fine. Fine. You better be right." McCoy glanced at the kid, who shrinked behind Spock at his stare. Scowling and murmuring to himself, he left them alone. While it was reassuring that McCoy was feeling better, the doctor's gruff demeanor had not been missed.
Putting the matter aside, Spock continued on through the forest, keeping an eye out for possible food sources. There were berries similar to what Jim had given him as well as some possible mushrooms, but being closer to the source of the mysterious fungus, the risk of getting sick from eating them was significantly increased.
In the corner of his eye, he caught Luca eying his shirt again. "I will not be adverse if you were to grab hold," he said calmly. At the child's confused stare, he amended, "You may grab my shirt."
With a bit of hesitation, Luca grabbed the back of his shirt, fisting the material in his hands. He buried his small face into his back, making it difficult to walk, but Spock allowed it. If he were human, he would most likely be able to give the child the comfort he required. But he was not human, he was Vulcan. If the child was his own, he would have meld with him to calm his mind and ease his fear, but he was not. And Luca was not old enough to consent to such a thing if he were to offer. It sat ill in his stomach that he was unable to help him when Jim cherished the child so much and obviously left him in Spock's care.
Spock was deep in thought on how to overcome the problem when the boy spoke up, "How do you know he's okay?"
With some careful deliberation, Spock said, "I can feel him close by."
A frown pulled at the child's lips. Somehow he managed to press his body closer without tripping the both of them. "Jim says you're in love with Miss Uhura. Is that true?"
Spock almost tripped over a log. He blamed it on Luca inhibiting his movements. "I appreciate Nyota as a subordinate and close friend."
"And Jim? Do you love him?"
Spock stopped walking and tilted his head to see the small child look up with him expectantly with big green eyes. Perhaps he was in more trouble than he previously believed if a small child could apparently see through him. For the first time he admitted his feelings aloud. "I do." After all, it seemed like everyone but Jim knew at this point.
Nodding his head, Luca buried his face back into his shirt. "Are you going to tell him?" he asked with his voice muffled by the cloth.
"I have not decided."
"Don't," he mumbled.
The response was unexpected. Since Spock's feeling had been discovered by the doctor and Nyota, both had been relentless in making him confess. The opposition aroused his curiosity. "Why not?"
With shoulders hunched, and fists clenching so hard, the knuckles had turned white, he whispered, "They'll hurt him. They sound nice, but it's usually a lie. He won't take it seriously." The boy's face was haunted with memories, and he closed his eyes trying to escape them. "The bad men …the ones who…they would say they loved me. Andrea too. I stopped believing them. They hurt me, and they left me. If they did, they wouldn't do that right?"
With care, Spock eased Luca's grip so he would let go, so he could turn around and kneel in front of him. "No they would not."
"Jim will come back, right? He didn't leave me too, right?" Tears streamed down Luca's face as he tried to give Spock a smile of the confidence he had feigned since their meeting. He tried to rub the tears away, but they only seemed to fall faster.
Suddenly, his Vulcan sensibilities did not seem so important. Avoiding direct skin contact, he pulled the child into his arms, intending to let him cry on his shirt. Unexpectedly, Luca, who had shown an inclination to avoid touching others too much, wrapped his arms around Spock's neck and his legs around his waist, forcing Spock to carry him. "No, Jim won't leave you behind. He'll be back. That I am certain."
Jim was walking though the forest aimlessly. His hip felt light, the phaser he normally carried was left with the rest of the supplies. The only weapon he had with him was the knife he always carried in his boot. He didn't pay attention to his surroundings, vaguely aware he was in enemy territory. Not that it mattered too much to him. He didn't want the responsibility anymore. He just wanted…he wasn't even sure what he wanted anymore.
He almost didn't realize that he had walked right into the enemy's camp. Three guards stared at him as he stared back, no one moving at first due to the shock. Jim was first to move, grabbing the knife from the boot and throwing it straight into the middle man's head.
That got the others moving. They drew their phasers as Jim dove to the side for cover. This was perfect. He could go down fighting. He wanted to. He wouldn't make it simple for them though. He would never give them that much satisfactory.
One of the two remaining guards ran around the side to shoot him, but Jim was ready, having heard his approach from his heavy footsteps. He threw a rock at the guard's shooting hand, making the shot miss Jim, allowing Jim to get closer and flip the guard over his should and taking the phaser in the process. With quick movements he shot the man on the ground and aimed the phaser at the last man standing.
The man, who turned out to be a woman, took cover behind a tree. Her leg, however, was still partially visible. With expert aim, he took the shot. He heard her cripple over in pain. This was too easy. Had he become so adept at killing that he could do it without a bat of an eyelash? He didn't feel anything anymore. No guilt, no sadness, and mostly without a second thought.
He never saw the fourth one coming. Another guard, a big burly man had come out of the tent during the commotion and managed to get behind him. He struck Jim from behind, and he fell dazed with the feel of something warm and wet trailing down the side of his head. His vision went in and out and he felt nauseous. He struggled to his hands and knees only to be kicked in his back, the air leaving his lungs. A weight settled onto his waist and hands wrapped around his neck, blocking the flow of blood to his brain.
So this was it. He was going to die here, strangled to death. This had been what he wanted. What he had sought out, yet …
Panic filled him. He was going to die. The horror sunk in. He was going to die. The adrenaline pumped and the fear continued to consume him. I don't want to die.
He fought.
Jim could hear McCoy stomping around the wooded area from a mile away. This caused the captain to sigh as he continued to sharpen his arrow heads with a whet stone.
He was sitting comfortably in a tree, readying his gear for the night ahead. The past two days he had been keeping an eye on his team from the shadows. He had erased their trail, scouted out the areas around them, and kept an eye on them from afar. This way, he could keep his command even if it was in the background, and he could move around more freely.
From the direction McCoy was heading, the doctor was heading back to the main camp. He packed his gear quickly and efficiently. He wasn't worried about Spock and Luca. Both had picked up his habits. There were less obvious about their whereabouts unlike his friend and Lieutenant Uhura. In addition, the two officers were not suited for this type of world. McCoy was far too kind, something Jim usually admired about him. But in this world, it was just a weakness if it overrode common sense. Uhura on the other hand, just wasn't up to date with everything going on. That was partially his fault as he hadn't exactly inclined to repeat the story of Tarsus for a second time, and he hadn't exactly told them full on details either.
Also, he didn't trust Decker as far as he could throw him. The commodore was leading them back to where they came, back towards the main settlement. The amount of small factions nearby was increasing too. Jim had already taken out one who had discovered his team. The commodore had to have known how dangerous it was. He was after something, the question was what.
Another thing that worried him was Uhura's concern over Decker. She knew something, and Decker was hiding something.
Needless to say, none of that mattered. He would watch over them. He would protect his own.
He was losing consciousness and fast. He didn't know how much longer he could keep fighting. It was useless anyway. The man was too big and too heavy for him to fight off. Jim's limbs were just flailing uselessly at this point.
Just as consciousness was about to slip away from him, a phaser shot pierced the air. Then another. The hold around his neck slackened and the teen coughed and gasped, trying to fill his lungs with fresh air. His body twisted so he was on he could put his forehead to the ground and claw at the earth beneath him. He was alive. God, he was alive.
"Are you alright, Jiim?"
Jabari. Jabari had been the one to save him. The older boy approached Jim, whose body was trembling. Jim barely turned his head to see him, and slowly he sat up, sitting on his heels. When Jim's body wouldn't stop shaking, Jabari knelt beside him.
"I don't want to die," he choked out, his eyes watering and threatening to overflow. "I got them all killed, and I can't stop seeing blood on my hands." He looked at Jabari, and his tears finally fell. "When did it become so easy to kill? And accept everyone who dies? I barely hesitate anymore when I have to kill one of my own. I just accept it, yet having to bury 15 of my own last week because of them." His hands went up to his hair, fisting the dirty blond hair. "It doesn't even make sense. I can't protect anyone and I fucking hate it. I can't stand it. But at the same time it's so easy to fucking move on. What the hell am I? I'm just another fucking Kodos who doesn't give a shit about life, but I feel like another piece of me dies every time one of my kids dies. I never wanted this. I never wanted to become this…this monster. I should die, but I can't. I can't."
Jabari reached out, pulling Jim against him, wrapping an arm around his waist and a hand buried in his locks. With the embrace, Jim full out sobbed into the older boy, loudly and unrestrained while Jabari held him protectively and gently.
He waited for Jim to calm his crying some before he spoke, "You aren't Kodos, Jim. And you aren't a monster either. Of course it's easy to kill now. You've been forced to do it over and over again. Death is so common around here; you've become desensitized to it. You kill who you have to for survival. The difference between you and most of the people here though, is that you know how precious life is. You have done almost everything to protect those kids. No matter how much pain it puts you through. No matter how much it tortures you. Most of the adults here have only looked out for themselves or immediate family and friends. You took in strangers that couldn't protect themselves. You've become a father and big brother to all of them. It's only natural that it hurts so much when they die, but you also know that you can't stop everything when they do so you keep going because the one's alive need you. You know that. This right now, what you're feeling right now, is just all those feelings you had to put aside, that you have repressed, hitting you at once." He felt Jim start to cry again, but he continued. "You're strong, and you've stood alone this entire time. But even the strong need a break every once in a while." He held Jim closer. "So go ahead and cry as much as you want."
Jim took the offer and cried again. He cried until he had no tears left and his head was pounding and his body was heavy with fatigue.
Jabari picked him up and placed him on one of the sleeping bags inside the tent, tucking him in.
"You're a bastard, you know that," Jim murmured. "For letting me pull this stunt."
"It was the quickest way for you to realize you didn't want to die."
Jim's eyelids were growing heavy. "And if I really did die or wanted to die? Did you think about that?"
"If you really did want to die, you would have found another way, and I would never let you die back there. I had my rifle trained on anyone who posed a real threat to you, just in case."
Jim snorted in disbelief. "Asshole."
"You weren't built to give up Jim, and you never will be. It's one of the reasons why you're a good leader. You value your life and of those around you. I knew that, and now you do too."
Jim's eyes finally closed. "Still a bastard," he slurred. "Should get back to camp."
"You're exhausted, and you don't want the rest of the camp to see you like this."
"Could have a concussion."
"Probably. If you fall into a coma, I'll still protect you."
Jim chuckled, already drifting off. "Fucking bastard."
Spock carried Luca back to the camp, the child having fell asleep in his arms after crying. Uhura's and McCoy's eyebrows shot up to their hairline at the sight. For Spock carrying a kid and for Luca actually able to fall asleep while someone besides Jim holding him.
"What brought this on?" Uhura asked.
"The child was emotionally distressed and grew fatigued once it had passed," Spock answered. He looked down at the makeshift bed and pondered the success rate of being able to remove the child from his person and place him in bed without waking him. The chances seemed rather low, and he wasn't eager to wake him.
"So he cried then fell asleep," McCoy rolled his eyes. "Great, so the mini version of Jim also got attached to the hobgoblin."
Uhura smacked his arm, though a smile played on her lips. "Leave him alone. It's cute."
A soft blush dusted Spock's cheeks. He decided to take the risk and try to put the child to bed.
"Great, surrounded by hobgoblin lovers."
"Doctor, as I stated previously, if the term hobgoblin is a derogatory reference about my ears─" Spock started, clearly trying to change the subject
"I'm not being xenophobic, Spock. You're the only hobgoblin out there."
Spock decided to ignore the doctor and focused on putting Luca to bed. It appeared Luca was more tired than he thought as he did not wake up as he normally would have.
"I'm glad you all made it back safely," Decker came out from the trees, smiling. "I had a little run in with another group. I was worried that maybe they found you guys."
"We are quite safe," Spock said, training his dark eyes on the commodore. "May I ask what happened to the attackers?"
"I stunned them with the phaser. I came back after making sure no one followed me."
The light mood in the camp grew heavy in an instant.
"If I may ask, Commodore, what is the current plan? If I am correct, we are heading back toward the main settlement," Spock stood once Luca was tucked in. "Which would put us closer to the infection."
"We need parts to complete the communication device. This would be our best chance on finding something useful than some crude crystals that may or may not help."
Something was off. It wasn't that he was wrong, just that it wasn't the whole truth. "Which isn't possible unless the field around the planet is lowered which, at the moment, is not possible with our lack of man power and resources."
Decker didn't look too happy with the way his eyes narrowed just slightly, but he still took an almost carefree approach. "I have a strategy, Commander Spock. Trust me."
"Trust, Commodore, is earned. Something you have not yet gained. However, as you are our superior officer, we have had no choice but to follow you."
Decker scowled this time. "Careful, Commander. That almost sounded like insubordination."
"I merely state the truth, Commodore."
"Even so, Commander, I would watch what you say." Decker's gaze roamed over the others. "Anyone else want to comment?"
No one said anything.
"Alright then. Now let's see what we can scrape together for dinner.
"We can't survive if this continues," Jim said walking back to the camp with Jabari. There was no evidence of his little breakdown, and his head had been wrapped. Unfortunately, the camp Jim had walked into didn't have anything useful for them to use besides more bandages. No medicine to go with it. "If this drags out for too much longer, we will all die."
"I know, but there is not much we can do."
Jim frowned at Jabari's words. What could they do about it? "Not necessarily," the words came out slowly and cautiously. "Kodos' mansion. They could have tools there we could use."
Jabari looked over at his friend. "That's a suicide mission."
"Yeah, but we're running out of options and food to eat. Almost everything is contaminated. Almost nothing is edible, and we're finding less and less rations. We're going to starve if we don't do something, and I rather die than resort to cannibalism."
Jabari sighed softly. "I had a feeling it would come to this."
"So you in?" Jim asked with hard blue eyes. After the little episode Jim had, he had gone back to being that unmovable force. The one who stood alone, took on too much responsibility, and where nothing moved him.
"We will need phasers," Jabari commented, scratching at his bandaged arm.
"Leave that to me," the teen replied easily. His gaze traveled to the motion, and he frowned. "You take something for it?"
"I am fine. Just need to change the bandages."
Jim nodded. He knew how itchy a wound got when the bandages didn't get changed. Maybe the new haul wasn't so bad after all. "All right then. Let's get to work."
Review!
Honestly I was surprised last chapter. Chapter 10 and 11 only had 3 or 4 reviews each (3 or 4 of those were from my editors) so I didn't think many read this. I was wrong! So much love! Truth be told, it made my week. It was nice someone actually reads this even if it's not spectacularly written. Every time I post, I reread the posted chapter obsessively and its the only thing I think about for a few days. I really liked the last chapter. So much so I put off Game Over to write the next chapter of this.
Next chapter won't have flashbacks. There's actually only two themes of flashbacks left. Storming Kodos' mansion and the after math of Tarsus. Everything else will be set in the present now that I have set up everything for it or mostly. You even get to read part of Jabari's diary entry/ book (which if you are my special fanfiction friend you've already read it) that will make you cry. Might even make Spock cry . . . maybe. . . . I haven't gotten that far yet. The City on the Edge of Forever was the inspiration for all that. "A famous novelist will write a classic using that theme. He will recommend those three words even over "I love you."" Sigh, I love that line. Plot bunnies galore! Okay now I'm rambling.
Leave reviews please.